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WILLIAM 1 




UlbilAKCK. 



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ON 



THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



Bt ALEXANDER INNES SHAND, 

OCCASIONAL CORKESPONDENT OF "THE LONDON TIMES." 



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS. 



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NEW YORK: 

HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN SQUARE. 
I 87 I. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by 

HARPER & BROTHERS, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, 



[THE library! 
|0F CONGRESS 

I WASHINGTON 



^■ 



PREFACE. 



These pages are nothing more than they profess to be — the story of or- 
dinary incidents in an extraordinary state of things; recollections of the 
Trail of the War, not of the front. Hasty work is generally the weakest 
plea that can be urged for lenient criticism ; but perhaps in this case the 
circumstances are somewhat exceptional. At least, if the thing were to be 
done at all, " 'twere well 'twere done quickly." This narrative being orig- 
inal from first to last, the writer, in justice to himself and his readers, vol- 
unteers the assurance that any incident or occasional expression of opinion 
they may fancy they recognize has been borrowed only from communications 
of his own that have appeared in "The Times" or elsewhere. 



CONTENTS. 



OHAP. 



PAQB 



I. The Start H 

11. The Neutral Ground 13 

III. Treves 15 

IV. Saarbruck 18 

V. Spicheken and Forbach 21 

VI. Travelling with the Wounded 26 

VII. The Hospitals 28 

VIII. Germany and the War 32 

IX. With Troops towards the Eront 36 

X. War Supporting Itself 40 

XL On the Eoad to the Rear 44 

Xll. Weissenburg and Woerth • 47 

Xni. EouND Strasbourg ^^ 

XIV. The Tourist-country in War-time 59 

XV. Germany and her Neighbors 61 

SUPPLEMENTARY CHAPTER : 

I. Weissenburg, Woerth, Sedan 65 

II. Saarbruck, Gravelotte, Metz 71 

III. The Siege of Strasbourg ■ 75 

IV. The Siege of Paris 77 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 

William I.) ^ ■ . ''^''^ 

!> ..-.. ,.. rrontispieces. 

Bismarck. . \ 

Map, Showing the Seat oe War in France ..„ 85 

Von Moltkb... , 8 

Napoleon III., Emperor of France..... 33 

The Crown Prince, Frederick Williajni 48 

Prince Frederick Charles op Prussia 49 

Marshal M'Mahon 54 

General Uhrich, Commander op the French in Strasbourg 56 

General Trochu 79 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



CHAPTER I. 



THE START. 



The other evening a group was gathered in 
a village Wirthsham on the Upper Rhine. The 
faces loomed benignantly thi'ough heavy wreaths 
of tobacco-smoke fitfully illuminated by the 
flash of an occasional lucifer-match. No bad 
type, by-the-way, of the state of matters by the 
neighboring Strasbourg, wrapped in dense poAv- 
der-clouds, lighted at intervals by blazing shells, 
where the resolute Germans, who manned the 
batteries and the trenches, cannonaded their 
victims with the stoical pity one feels for the suf- 
ferings of one's neighbors. The worthy Baden- 
ers of the Wirthshaus, each of them behind his 
beer-glass and china pipe, were voluble of words 
and sympathy as they listened comfortably to 
the steady roar of the guns outside. That 
their sympathy was real there could be no ques- 
tion ; they told touching little traits of the mis- 
eries of the miserable refugees, and rehearsed 
their heart-broken lamentations with a rude 
eloquence that showed they were genuinely 
touched. And they puffed their tobacco and 
gulped down their beer with an air of ineffable 
satisfaction. 

There was an exception. A man, in blue 
blouse and French casquette, much like a well- 
to-do workman of the Parisian Faubourgs, was 
seated at a side-table. He, too, had his beer 
and his pipe, but the pipe had gone out and the 
beer stood untasted. His haggard face looked 
as if it had been fresh grooved by wearing anx- 
iety, and it might be starvation that had given 
the sharper touches to the lines by his down- 
drawn mouth and the wrinkles under his blood- 
shot eyes. He swayed himself uneasily in his 
seat to the terrible music of the cannonade : as 
it swelled he clutched desperately at his close- 
clipped hair with his trembling hands : as it 
seemed to lull, he would bury his face in them, 
planting his elbows on the table as if he would 
see out the siege in that very attitude. The 
second after he would be on his legs, striding 



away towards the door, to retui'n the following 
one to his seat. At last, after pressing his fe- 
vered forehead on the dingy panes of the little 
window, he fairly rushed from the room to see 
what might be seen. The night was as black 
as the prospects of the beleaguered city : the 
rain beat in his face as thickly as the German 
rifle-balls had been pelting its ramparts that 
afternoon ; but his excitement was not to be de- 
nied — perhaps not unnaturally. Within the 
double line of French and German batteries 
were his home, his family, his property, his old 
associations, and his heart ; and it was difficult 
to sit still and listen quietly while they were 
being bombarded and shattered. 

Although, thank God, one had no such terri- 
ble concern in the European war as this unhap- 
py Alsacian, you could surmise something of 
his ungovernable and irrational excitement by 
your own sensations as you read Mr. Renter's 
sensational telegrams seated in a snug English 
arm-chair. You heard the bellow of the field- 
guns, the rattle of the Chassepot and Ziindna- 
del-Gewehr ; the remorseless grind of the mi- 
trailleuse. You saw the long trains of wound- 
ed coming in from the front to the ghastly sym 
phony of shrieks and groans ; you pictured the 
profound enthusiasm of an earnest nation arm- 
ing for a national war. Very likely, you might 
appreciate more philosophically the rights of 
the struggle were you to stay contentedly at 
home. You were certain to be kept much more 
thoroughly au/ait of its contemporary history, 
to be favored with far more rapid and compre- 
hensive bird's-eye views of the successive phases 
of the campaign. No matter. It seemed dif- 
ficult to amuse one's self with the dropping fire 
of breech-loaders among the heather when there 
was a roar of battle all round the north-eastern 
frontier of France, or to take an interest in bags 
of grouse when human beings were dropping by 
tens of thousands. So curiosity, or perhaps 
something of a more worthy feeling, had its 
way, and, spite of misgivings that you might be 
rushing in search of light into outer darkness. 



12 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAE. 



one's mind was made up to a start for the 
Rhine. 

It was the middle of August; and although 
the days of Spicheren,Wissemburg, and Woerth 
had torn rents in the veil that had enveloped 
the German plans ; although the series of im- 
promptu surprises Von Moltke had prepared for 
the Emperor were rapidly developing them- 
selves, still German officials in London would 
give little encouragement to English travelling 
gentlemen. Honestly, they said, the successes 
of the Germans had hitherto been greatly owing 
to the secrecy they had observed, and, as they 
courteously insinuated, observers could do no 
good, might do harm, and would infallibly be 
much in the way. The Crown Prince had al- 
ready been overdone with princes and prince- 
lets ; his staff was swelled far beyond the pro- 
portions of an average state army under the old 
Bund : provisions would become more hard to 
come by as the lines of communication length- 
ened out, and the commissariat had more than 
enough to do without catering for idle mouths. 
Complimentary to your intelligence, perhaps, 
but otherwise unsatisfactory. One cause for 
thankfulness you had, however. When time 
was valuable, it defined the situation, and told 
you that you could count on no help in England. 
You must rely on yourself, or find friends 
abroad, and, instead of making a dash to the 
front, decide for pursuing your modest investi- 
gations on the trail of the war. 

It was the work of a day to mobilize yourself, 
your baggage, and a portion of your property. 
It was clear, when communications were hope- 
lessly disorganized and traffic worse than pre- 
carious, the lightest marching order should be 
the order of the day, and accordingly the trav- 
elling kit was restricted to the most simple nec- 
essaries. Even in the solitary knapsack, maps 
and field-glass, flask and tobacco, elbowed ward- 
robe and toilet necessaries into nooks and cor- 
ners. The only luxury indulged ia was a wealth 
of vises to the passports — sheer extravagance, as 
it turned out, for on no single occasion, from the 
leaving Charing Cross to the returning thither, 
was that passport asked for. There were cir- 
cumstantial rumors, semi-officially confirmed by 
one's banker, of English notes, bank and circu- 
lar, being only negotiable in the war country 
at some such depreciation as assignats of the 
first French Republic. Inquiries after a money- 
belt were responded to by the production of many- 
pocketed girdles, where you might have secreted 
the fruits of an average lifetime's labor at the 
diggings. That difficulty was disposed of, how- 
ever, by arranging a single pocket, running on 
a simple strap, and thus, with a modest purse 



at the girdle, a knapsack not much heavier, some 
circular notes, and a few introductions in case 
of need, one's arrangements were complete. 

Already at Charing Cross Station you stood 
in the shadow of the war. It had fallen un- 
mistakably on the faces of the stream of Ger- 
mans who were still on the flow from England 
out to the Fatherland. There you first caught 
the expression you came afterwards to know so 
well ; a seated melancholy at seeing family ties 
loosened, and cherished hopes blighted, at hav- 
ing to leave the hearth for the bivouac, and ex- 
change the umbrella for the rifle; but at the 
same time a determined resolution that the tran- 
quil life should not be broken in upon for noth- 
ing, and that through triumphs or defeats this 
unholy war should be fought to the bitter end. 
The younger men on their way to the ranks 
brightened up quickly as they were whirled be- 
yond the unmanning influence of the tearful 
groups who had dismissed them with the last 
Lebewohls. By the time they found themselves 
on the Ostend packet, they were laughing mer- 
rily at the latest French bulletins and chatter- 
ing sanguinely over the advance on Paris. It 
was the elderly gentlemen whose faces kept 
their settled gloom. These were on their way 
to knit up the threads of broken commercial en- 
terprises on the Rhine and the Elbe ; or possi- 
bly to look for a wounded son missing somewhere 
among the field-hospitals of Woerth or Spiche- 
ren. However, old and young alike found some- 
thing to cheer them on disembarking at Ostend 
— something more invigorating in the chill small 
hours than even the steaming cups of cafe an 
lait. News of a battle by Metz, and of course 
another German victory ; and the invariable 
postscript, the inevitable bitter following the 
sweet — "Our losses are heavy." The Ger- 
mans first looked happy, and then grave, and 
then happy again. The expression on the faces 
of the Belgian gentlemen was more complicated, 
and their subsequent talk in the train suggest- 
ive — it was so evident their sympathies enlisted 
them on the side of France, and their jealous 
fears on that of Germany. Could they only 
have material and unimpeachable guaranties 
against annexation, how profoundly they would 
feel with this chere France. But the misfortune 
is, France reciprocates so cordially, and loves 
them so intensely, that they dare not approacli 
her. If they only came near enough, she would 
clasp them in her fond embrace, and never con- 
sent to let them go again. So with their eyes 
bent wistfully on the beautiful France, they are 
constrained to approach themselves politically 
to rough brusque Germany. It is hard on a 
people whose social aspirations are so absolutely 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAE. 



13 



French, whose organs parody so meritoriously 
the intonations of Parisian speech : whose capi- 
tal mimics so successfully Parisian architecture, 
parks, costumes, cafe's, restaurants, shops, and 
sign-boards. The more credit to the Belgians 
for subjugating their hearts to their principles, 
and submitting themselves to sacrifices so heavy, 
to insure the independence that lies so near their 
hearts. 



CHAPTER II. 



THE NEUTRAL GROUND. 



When two parties are preparing for a fight, 
the first idea of the curious but cautious neutral 
is to seek out a quiet corner, whence he can see 
it in comparative safety and comfort. When 
the French and German armies were massing 
themselves in mystery behind the lines of the 
Moselle and the Saar, when no one could proph- 
esy when the wai--clouds would come in collis- 
ion, but every one could guess where — then a 
glance at the map suggested to war correspond- 
ents that their provisional billets must be in 
Luxembourg. Circumstances and treaties have 
obtruded the neutralized and guaranteed Grand 
Duchy between the hostile territories, and the 
capital, with its tolerable hotels, stands within 
easy reach of the most objective angle. Ac- 
cordingly, on the first outbreak of the war, 
there was a strong English occupation of the 
province. The metropolitan and provincial 
press were strongly represented. Military 
men, playing hide-and-seek with the Horse 
Guards, posted themselves there in observa- 
tion. The Luxembourgois were delighted to see 
them all. They had been long accustomed to 
Federal occupation ; and when the Federal gar- 
rison was withdrawn, would have been only too 
happy to welcome a French one. Notwith- 
standing the prevalence of German speech, in 
sympathies and instincts they were far more 
French than the Belgians, and, unlike them, 
most of them would have hailed French annex- 
ation as the political millennium. But, practi- 
cal befoi'e all, they showed themselves cordial to 
every guest who brought a purse with money in 
it. Moreover, what those inquisitive arrivals 
craved before all was news and excitement ; 
and excitement and authentic intelligence the 
citizens of the Grand Duchy were prepared to 
purvey to any extent. They were always hear- 
ing and telling some new thing. Their country 
is a chosen haunt of the canard, if not their pet 
breeding-ground; and flushed in crowds, pro- 
fessedly by Metz and Thionville, those pseudo 
birds of passage dropped in flights in the Lux- 



embourg streets and cafes. One stipulation 
the citizens made, and a not unreasonable one. 
They were prepared to provide their visitors 
with rumors to any extent, hot and hot, but 
they protested against their catering for them- 
selves. Their bugbear was the being compro- 
mised. A correspondent had only to leave his 
hotel, and stroll down to the neighboring cafe, 
to pick and choose among sensational and dra- 
matic episodes, guaranteed by the personal hon- 
or of the informant, if not by his personal ob- 
servation. But if he went to the country to 
look out for his own game, that was another 
matter altogether. A highly-drilled corps of 
suspicion, morbidly rigid in the discharge of 
their duties, the police of the Grand Duchy 
were ever on the alert. Railway oflBcials and 
cantonniers of the line volunteered their services 
towards what became a labor of love, and de- 
voted the ample time left on their hands by the 
temporary lightening of their duties to amateur 
inquisition. "Our own correspondents" and 
their military friends were always being march- 
ed off and moved on. . If they were pounced on 
near the capital, they were straightway dragged 
before the local areopagites, to be dismissed with 
emphatic warnings not to do it again. If stop- 
ped near the frontiers, their officious guardians 
gravitated dangerously in the direction of the 
French outposts. Sensible men began to find 
out that the safest thing they could do was to 
stay quietly in the city, and amuse themselves 
in winnowing the grains of wheat from the 
bushels of chaffs. Shrewd men with easy con- 
sciences saw that Luxembourg was the place to 
manufacture the most sensational of letters with 
the slightest of strain on the invention. Long 
after the French camp at Sierk had been broken 
up, and the tide of war had rolled back upon 
the Upper Moselle, Englishmen still mustered 
strong in the Hotel de Cologne and the Hotel 
de Luxembourg, and Luxembourg was a natu- 
ral point of departure for any Englishman start- 
ing on the track of the war, especially as it 
stands on the shortest road to Treves. 

As you leave the Luxembourg railway-sta- 
tion, again you are conscious of the shadow of 
the war. The suburban cafes and garden beer- 
houses, with the shutters up on their sightless 
windows, stare at you vacantly. A dull ap- 
proach between blank walls prepares you to be 
charmed and startled by the view it leads to. 
As you drive on to the magnificent bridge flung 
over the chasm that yawns to the north of the 
town, you see art assisting wild nature in a 
luxury of colossal fortification : perpendicular 
scarps and counterscarps, and curtains that, ex- 
cept for the size of the individual stones that 



u 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



face them, remind you more of the works of an- 
cient Egypt than any thing modern ; gigantic 
bastions, frowning down on the massive demi- 
lunes, powder-magazines, and store-houses, that 
shelter in the depths of the valley below, by the 
banks of the little stream that trickles among 
the carrot-beds and cabbage-gardens. You see 
vast casemates given over to solitude, and 
countless snarling embrasures, from which the 
teeth have dropped out. You look backward 
on a wealth of outworks that exhaust every 
technical term in the glossary of scientific de- 
fense. Ravines of the kind run round three 
sides of the rocky table-land crowned by the 
upper town ; and on the fourth, where it would 
be easily accessible, ingenuity had exhausted it- 
self to solve the problem of impregnability. 
Of course, beyond all is the chain of detached 
forts, that elaborate modern development of the 
medieval barbican — each in itself a fortress of 
the third or fourth rank. And all this pictu- 
resque mass of unproductive labor is doomed, 
although very probably not irrevocably. It is 
true, since the outbreak of the war, the inmates 
have begun to realize the risks of inhabiting the 
strongest fortress in North Europe. The work 
of demolition most deliberately pursued for 
three or four years past has lately received a 
stimulus, and the little Duchy is putting its 
frightened shoulder in earnest to the ponder- 
ous wheel. With their modest means it is hard 
for the natives' best exertions to make it re- 
volve quickly enough to keep pace with events. 
There were some two hundred men busily at 
work, and they looked like gangs of industrious 
fleas hopping about these mountains of earth 
and stone. "It is hard for us poor people to 
have to pay to remove the burden they have 
charged on our shoulders," remarked a respect- 
able workman, smoking his evening pipe, and 
watching the cascades of brown earth and ava- 
lanches of stones tumbling into the abyss be- 
low. So it is, and the more so, that, if the ces- 
sion of Luxembourg should chance to be made 
a condition of the peace, the place will unques- 
tionably be replaced in its rank as the first for- 
tress of Germany. As yet the demolitions 
have done more harm to the pi'omenades than 
the fortifications, and it would cost but a com- 
parative bagatelle to take wp the broken loops 
in their armor of proof. 

The proprietor is an absentee, and resides in 
his capital of the Hague, and, to the casual ob- 
server at least, his vicegerents appear to ad- 
minister the Duchy in most patriarchal sim- 
plicity. They ought to understand thoroughly 
the sentiments of the people, for they give them- 
selves every opportunity of hearing their can- 



did expression. Every evening the ministry 
and the military commandant come to unbend 
at the cafe' in the bosom of the people. In pip- 
ing times of peace, the cafe looks as if it might 
be drowsy enough ; with war on the neighbor- 
ing frontier, almost within the sound of the guns 
of Thionville, and with an uneasy suspicion 
that they and their country were among the 
stakes of the game that is being played there, 
the blood of the people bubbles up to fever 
heat, and as evening goes on, its voice rises 
to a shriek and a bellow. As telegrams come 
in via Paris or Berlin — for official intelli- 
gence travels the few miles from Luxembourg 
to the seat of war by a considerable detour — 
the excitement deepens. But it grows to in- 
sanity as gentlemen pant in, dishevelled and 
dusty, who have passed the day in amateur re- 
connaissances. One of them gasps out that he 
has spent the afternoon on an eminence before 
Thionville, and seen with his own eyes a regi- 
ment of Prussian cuirassiers crumpled up like 
the sheet of newspaper he crushes emphatical- 
ly in his hand. Another has penetrated into 
Thionville itself: strange to say, he has seen 
or heard nothing of this tragic episode, but he 
brings the news of a general action on the side 
of Metz imminent for the following morning. 
So it goes on ; every man who presumes to 
discuss the situation is bound to contribute his 
own item of war news, and the more startling it 
is, the more chance he has of edging in a cou- 
ple of sentences. There is an honorable under- 
standing that no one is to be brought to book 
for the exploded fiction he may have propa- 
gated yesterday. Sometimes these quidnuncs 
lie with a diabolical circumstance which pro- 
duces most unhappy results. The Hotel de 
Cologne is filled Avith French ladies, refugees 
from Metz or Thionville, who, in colors or in 
black, fete or mourn the fluctuations of the war. 
One fine forenoon the report of a French suc- 
cess had brought out at the dinner-table a 
whole bevy of brilliant toilets, and the faces of 
the wearers for once were comparatively cheer- 
ful. As the soup is removed, a French station- 
master in retreat bustles in, evidently bubbling 
over with the excitement of being the bearer 
of evil tidings. His face alone was enough to 
give a shock to the party, and it did. Having 
preluded artistically, so as to hang them all up 
on the sharpest tenter-hooks of expectation, he 
opened his budget, and the contents came with 
a rush. " Surprise. Overwhelming numbers 
of the enemy ! Two French regiments sur- 
rounded by three German divisions — prodigies 
of valor — heaps of dead — 150th Hussars cut to 
pieces to a man !" One elderly lady turns pale 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAR. 



as death, clutches at the table, stares wildly at 
the messenger of evil, rises and totters from the 
room. Her daughter follows, dramatically ap- 
plying her handkerchief to her eyes, heaving 
up an admirable imitation of a sob, stealing a 
glance at the mirror as she passes. The un- 
happy lady has her only son in the ill-fated 
regiment, and hurries off towards Thionville to 
pay the last sad tribute to his loved remains. 
She returns late next day, having learned that 
the regiment in question is at that moment in 
Alsace, and that her son, for all any one knows 
to the contrary, carries himself to a marvel. 
And the following day, at dinner, she sees the 
veracious station - master in his accustomed 
place, opening his diurnal budget without the 
slightest shade of embarrassment. 

In these days, as the Germans had put a gir- 
dle between the French armies and their sym- 
pathizers in the Duchy, the vigilance exercised 
on the movements of neutrals had slackened. 
Accordingly, we could plan a little demonstra- 
tion on our own account, and improvised an ex- 
cursion to a Pisgah christened the Johannis- 
berg. We were assured it stood out bastion- 
like on the frontier, and commanded an unin- 
terrupted view to the gates of Thionville, and 
far beyond. My companions were a distin- 
guished novelist and journalist, and a gallant 
officer in the Indian service. 

Arrived at the frontier station, Esch, we 
found ourselves on the right flank of the emi- 
nence in question, and something like a mile 
from its base. Very promising it looked, and^ 
our hopes rose the higher that, having dispatch- 
ed the train and their work for some hours to 
come, all the personnel of the station joined our 
party. The muscular station-master strode oif 
gallantly at our head, assisting his steps with 
the stem of a youthful tree, like a modern Her- 
cules on his way to draw the wood on the hill 
for lions and hydras. Thanks to the weight of 
his club, Hercules soon fell into the rear, and a 
passing shower drove the rest of the native con- 
tingent to refuge in some neighboring farm- 
buildings. Meantime, the three impetuous 
Englishmen had breasted the hill-side through 
thick-wove hedges and dripping copse-wood up 
to the chapel that stood on the summit. So 
far so good : but the little chapel was imbo- 
somed in wood, and so were we ; and when our 
perseverance was finally rewarded by finding a 
peep-hole through the foliage, our curiosity had 
to limit itself to the sight of a quiet Luxem- 
bourg village in the valley below, and some 
poplars, a mile and a half off, on the top of an 
opposite hill. What the Luxembourgois, who 
knew the place well, had hoped to see when 



they got up there, it would have been hard to 
say. Perhaps they stimulated their imagina- 
tions, or salved their consciences by concocting 
bulletins of the war in a place where they might 
possibly have seen something of it, had the to- 
pography of the country been totally different. 
Even when we had operated our advance on 
the second ridge, all we had before us was a 
notch in a third one, through which we could 
distinguish something like a road and a double 
line of poplars. A distant cloud of dust sug- 
gested, of course, a cavalry engagement, and a 
cloud of smoke a cannon-fire, which ought to 
have been audible if it had not been blowing 
something very like a gale. Of course we 
ought to have laid our joint fancy under con- 
tribution for the details of the campaign, and 
carried the story of the action back to the cafe' 
in Luxembourg, and then transmitted it in sen- 
sational letters to the English journals. Un- 
fortunately, our friend the Captain carried a 
field-glass, popularly known in English circles 
at Luxembourg as "la Mitrailleuse," and re- 
garded with extreme suspicion by the author- 
ities as some new and truculent weapon of of- 
fense. "La Mitrailleuse" disengaged a flock 
of sheep and their attendant shepherds from the 
haze of dust — strong presumptive evidence that 
there was no hungry army in the immediate 
vicinity of the mutton, while the smoke de- 
tached itself from smouldering brush - wood. 
Candor compels the confession that our expedi- 
tion, in point of military interest, was a com- 
parative failure ; although, I have every reason 
to believe, it contrasted favorably in incident 
with many on which able correspondents have 
founded the entertaining and instructive letters 
which have given us so vivid an idea of the 
progress of the campaign. 



CHAPTEE III. 



Leaving Luxembourg, with its safe excite- 
ment, its ample supplies of daily rumor, its war 
correspondents sitting in the snug seclusion of 
their chambers cooking up rechauffes of canards, 
and spicing them to suit the palates of the pub- 
lic, was like taking a plunge in the dark un- 
known. Beyond the Prussian frontier all was 
myth and mystery; the only thing absolutely 
certain was that there our sorrows would begin. 
We braced ourselves to stern inquisition by fron- 
tier officials, and perpetual arrests by the sub- 
ordinate minions of power. No conveyances, 
public or private ; hotels turned to barracks, and 



16 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



railway-stations to hospitals ; roads blocked with 
supplies, and reserves pressing forward to the 
front. In short, as every one agreed, what we 
had to look forward to was sustained suffering 
without the dignity of danger. Unless we could 
bribe one of the rare peasants left to till the de- 
serted fields — my Indian friend was to accom- 
pany me as far as Saarbruck — we should have to 
make our way to Treves as we best could, car- 
rying our own baggage. Light as it was, plod- 
ding along the level highway, knapsack-laden, 
by no means entered into our arrangements, if 
substitutes were by any means to be provided. 

Accordingly, the revulsion of our wrought-up 
feelings was ineffable when we descended from 
the railway-carriage at Wasserbillig into the 
arms of a jolly Luxembourgois, the proprietor 
of a comfortable little public omnibus, who re- 
ceived us as if it were us in particular he had 
been waiting for. A few minutes more and we 
were rattling over the bridge on the Sauer, and 
past the black and white barrier posts of Prus- 
sia. The only signs of an exceptional state of 
things were the girders of the small iron rail- 
way-bridge lifted off and laid by the side of the 
line : not even a picket of observation, in the 
shape of a pair of policemen ; not a solitary 
myrmidon of the Zollverein. The only result 
of the war had been the suspension of such friv- 
olous checks on free circulation. It was humil- 
iating ; but the German Confederation actually 
seemed to ignore our advent, or regard it with 
supreme indifference. And this is, perhaps, the 
place to say that, in the course of the tour, that 
first impression deepened gradually to convic- 
tion. You might have forgotten your passport 
at the passport-agent's for any service it was. 
Whenever you were asked for papers, it was a 
military pass, and not the autographs of con- 
suls in London, that satisfied the scruples that 
arrested you. 

It was a pleasant drive down the Moselle val- 
ley, between the half-reaped crops and under 
the rich fruit-trees. Our only fellow - passen- 
gers were a respectable woman in the deepest 
of mourning, and her little girl, decked o-ut like 
a stage peasant, in the gayest of white and crim- 
son and silver. It was for national, and not 
domestic bereavements, the mother dressed in 
black. Our complacent coachman pulled up at 
Dorf Igel, to let us renew our acquaintance with 
the venerable Roman monument. The eagle 
that had perched placidly on the top for the last 
seventeen hundred years, until he was winged 
by a French shot in the beginning of the century, 
had perhaps a narrow escape the other day. It 
was easy to conceive a sanguinary battle of Igel 
fought on the line of the Moselle, with French 



and German guns in position on the lofty natu- 
ral earth-works on either bank, while shot and 
shell made ducks and drakes on the blood-stain- 
ed bosom of the river. 

Past the handsome railway-station at Treves, 
where, for the first time, we saw the flag of the 
hospitals and ambulances, the red cross on the 
white ground, flying from a side-building ; a 
crush of sheep and a cloud of dust choking the 
bridge and us, and out of the cloud a husky 
voice demanding what we had to declare. The 
zealous ofiicial ought to have learned to recog- 
nize them by this time, but he had assumed 
the two enormous cases of lint and bandages on 
the roof to be our private luggage. Perhaps the 
palpable darkness that shrouded them made his 
error excusable. 

In the streets of Treves, among the decently- 
to-do women, at any rate, black was the only 
wear. In strange contrast were the gay flags, 
the North and South German colors, that waved 
from the housetops or the windows. At its time 
of life, the second oldest city in Europe may be 
excused for being drowsy, and lagging a little in 
arrear of modern progress ; and Treves is never 
lively. But now all trade seemed well-nigh at 
a standstill, and men seemed as scarce on the 
pavements as in the fields through which we 
had driven. The fact is, these first impressions 
at Treves were corrected by subsequent ones, 
and gave a very unfair impression of the drain 
upon the manhood of Germany. Lying imme- 
diately behind the line of advance and the 
scenes of butchery, it had become a depot on 
which the armies and the hospitals drew for all 
manner of labor. 

The war had placed the staff of the Trieri- 
scher Hof, on something more than a peace es- 
tablishment. There was but a head-waiter and 
an aid-de-camp, and these not overworked. 
Yet every thing was as comfortable as it used to 
be, with the difference that you were made at 
once the spoiled children of the establishment 
and embarrassed with attentions. When the 
hotel had a stranger to welcome within its gates, 
it clearly made the most of him. Yet not so 
long ago, as the waiter assured us, there had 
been bustle enough, and too much. His Roy- 
al Highness, Prince Friedrich Karl, in this 
room ; his Excellency General So-and-So in 
that ; three or four officers in each of the oth- 
ers, and 140,000 men of all arms billeted in the 
town. That was when the Paris press was play- 
ing hide-and-seek with the German army, when 
Von Goebel had stuck up a scarecrow in the 
woods by Saarbruck, and through the district 
perdit of the Eifel 50,000 German horse were 
silently picking their way to the front. 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAR. 



17 



When the path of our adventurous advance 
bristled — to plagiarize on the Emperor's procla- 
mation — with obstacles, a military safe-conduct 
was our earliest care. At the commandant's 
head-quarters in the market-place, every thing 
wore the quasi-military air of a country in de- 
liberate course of mobilization. It was hard to 
tell who was a soldier or civilian, to guess at 
grades or ranks. In a little room on the groiind- 
floor opening directly from the Place, a middle- 
aged man, surrounded by bloused peasants, sat 
at a table. With his worn look and awkward- 
ly sitting uniform, he reminded one of a mid- 
night masquerader caught and mobbed in mid- 
day's sunshine. Beyond him, at another, was 
a young major, looking the soldier all over, busy- 
ing himself with a knot of regulars. He at last 
found a moment to listen to our wishes. He 
was courteous, but profoundly easy as to our 
safety, and supremely indiiFerent as to our dan- 
ger. Certainly we might go to Saai'bruck : un- 
pleasant journey as times went, and frightfully 
tedious. If we wanted a military pass, doubt- 
less the commandant there would supply it ; 
and again he was busied with his books and 
notes. The result of the interview, unsatisfac- 
tory as it was in one sense, was instantaneous 
relief in another. The imaginary bonds which, 
as we had been persuaded, fettered us in our 
movements, snapped and dropped from our 
limbs. We were free agents, and for the fu- 
ture might rely upon ourselves as we had been 
wont to do, without counting with authorities. 
So we dismissed from our mind all idea of in- 
terviews with the commandant of Saarbruck or 
any one else, and fell back, until further notice, 
upon the customary role of British tourists. 

However, as neither Bradshaio nor the Tele- 
,graph were of much use in these times, we 
sought a personal interview with the railway- 
clerk. There would be a train to Saarbruck 
next morning at 5 30, and tickets would be is- 
sued as usual. The only shadow that lingered 
over our brightening prospects was a vague 
apprehension of short commons and irregu- 
lar rations, on the way we were going — an ur- 
gent reason for making the most of the flesh- 
pots of Treves and the excellent German din- 
ner provided at the one o'clock table d'hote. 
The party, consisting of citizens, was select in 
number and earnestly patriotic in feeling. 
The gentleman next me apologized very unnec- 
essarily for the strength of the sentiments he 
expressed, by explaining he had a couple of 
sons and three nephews in the field, to say 
nothing of a favorite pair of carriage -hoi'ses. 
Next the waiter struck in to inform us that the 
hotel omnibus hoi-ses had gone the same way, 
2 



and had exchanged the familiar streets of 
Treves for the interminable chaussees of France. 
Where they were then he knew nothing, he 
added, and a tear dimmed his eye. Doubtless 
he pictured his sleek old friends, tethered to 
tlie wheel of a baggage-wagon, picking mouldy 
rushes under the dripping poplars of a strange 
land. The young waiter, his assistant, an ex- 
ceedingly nice-looking lad, wore deep black, 
which was evidently no costume of ceremonj', 
and went through his duties with a courage as 
creditable in its way as that which carried the 
heights of Spicheren. It was obviously terri- 
bly repugnant to him for the moment ; and he 
was so gi'eedy to pick up any rumors from the 
seat of war, or any speculation on tlie progress 
of the armies, that it was torture to drag 
himself out of earshot of the conversation. 
Then, as the others went out, our friend, the 
major of brigade, dropped in, and we improved 
our acquaintance. As we sipped our coffee 
and he swallowed down his dinner, he found 
time to deplore, with a comic resignation, the 
multifarious engagements of that eternal round 
of duties of his, and to theorize on the chances 
of the campaign. There were many wounded 
lying in Treves, he said, but few of them dan- 
gerously hurt. They did not send back the 
graver injuries to a town that, so far as rail- 
ways went, was in a cid de sac. Then, almost 
in the middle of a sentence, and with the last 
mouthful of his meal, he rose, saluted, and with 
a curt and courteous apology disappeared, car- 
rying away the latest Graphic, with its views of 
Saarbruck and the bridge. 

No English tourist by the Black Gate, iiot a 
soul in the ample enceinte of the amphitheatre ; 
and as for the Roman Baths, the guardian had 
left his little house and taken the keys with him. 
It was all as unnatural as if you had found an 
empty Park on a fine June afternoon, or no ve- 
hicles in Sutton on a Derby-day. But, on the 
other hand, there were signs of the times that 
had an interest of their own to us, who had not 
yet supped deep of sensations and horrors. In 
the first place were the frequent Lazzarette — 
Lazzarette is the rather repulsive name by 
which the Germans choose to christen their 
military hospitals. The red cross floated from 
all manner of buildings — from coquettish sub- 
urban houses, standing in green lawns in a 
blaze of flower-beds, to massive convents grim- 
ly turning their backs on the narrow streets, 
and shutting out life and liveliness with grated 
windows, blank walls, and ponderous swing- 
gates. Round the doors of the former lightly 
wounded men stood sunning themselves, with 
bandaged arms in slings, or hopping about on 



18 



ON THE TKAIL OF THE WAR. 



crutches among the sparrows. There were 
Krankenpjleger by plenty, in ones, twos, and 
threes ; those brethren of the rosy cross carry- 
ing the badge conspicuously on their arms. 
Here a sister of charity, with her book of devo- 
tion and her chaplet of beads, went gliding in 
round the scarcely - opened hospital doors ; 
there, the door was flung wide back to admit a 
portly matron, who bustled in, followed by her 
daughters, bearing a basketful of comforts for 
the body. There had been few deaths, where 
serious wounds were the exception ; yet in a 
corner of a church-yard we came upon a fresh 
cluster of new-made graves, and friendly hands 
had strewed flowers and laurels on the martyrs 
to the national cause. 

Across the river, and you forget the cares lav- 
ished on invalids sent to the rear, in interesting 
yourself in the arrangements for provisioning 
the soldiers to the front. From the railway- 
station, for a long mile down the walnut ave- 
nue by the river bank, the road is cumbered 
with carts charged alternately with the means 
of sustaining life and inflicting death. With 
Luxembourg neutral, there is no railway com- 
munication between Treves and Germany east 
of Bingen. Had the railway from Cologne 
through the Eifel been completed instead of 
merely in course of construction, it might have 
accelerated by days the rapid advance of the 
Germans. Here are long lines of country wag- 
ons, driven for the most part by elderly peas- 
ants or hobbledehoys, all crowding up to the 
term of' their tedious journey at the adjacent 
station. Some of them are piled full of long 
loaves, but slightly protected from the flying 
showers ; but the loaves look as if they were as lit- 
tle likely to be damaged by the weather as the 
sandstone blocks from the neighboring quarries. 
There are bags of wheat, and sacks of potatoes, 
and casks of cartridges ; but these last are pro- 
tected with a care not wasted on the bread. 
Passing on and mounting the steep hill behind, 
to where the colossal red statue of the Virgin 
blushes to the evening sun like the rosy monu- 
ments of Petra, you can look tranquilly back 
on all the bustle you have extricated yourself 
from. Treves is as quiet as its suburb is noisi- 
ly animated ; the boat-building is suspended on 
the banks of the Moselle ; few sailing-craft, and 
not one solitary raft, are floating on the river's 
bosom : no steamer blows oflf her steam by the 
bridge. Down the valley from Conz, a train 
of railway-wagons of interminable length drags 
itself along in the wake of the solitary engine, 
like a broken - back snake ; here and there 
alone the parallel road, slowly moving pillars 
of dust indicate the herds of cattle that are 



trudging footsore towards the field-shambles. 
Taking the descent very easily, you reach the 
railway station full half an hour before the 
train, and, pending its tardy arrival, refresh 
yourself with beer in the restauration. In one 
corner of the hall is a pile of litters — mattresses 
in wicker-work frames with oil-skin hoods, car- 
ried on a couple of poles passed through hasps 
in the sides ; in another a heap of canvas 
stretchers, some of them crimsoned with un- 
pleasantly suggestive stains. The train comes 
in at last, empty, except for a dozen or so 
of lightly wounded men, who walk off with 
slight assistance. It was the first arrival of 
wounded we had seen ; and, had you seen 
nothing more of the war, it must have sent you 
back to England with some faint conception of 
its hon'ors. As it was, looking back upon it 
afterwards was like recalling the cut finger of 
yesterday among the mortal scenes of a grand 
railway smash. 



CHAPTER IV. 

SAAKBKUCK. 



At 5 30 A.M. there was considerable confu- 
sion, but no great crowd, at the station. Tickets 
were duly issued ; but for the moment there was 
no appearance of a train, although an engine 
was fussing about among the crowds of carriages 
shunted on the numberless lines of rails, most 
of them third-class, goods-vans, horse-boxes 
fitted up roughly with benches, or littered down 
with straw : these last were for transport of the 
wounded. It was an agglomeration of rolling- 
stock from every German line — Cologne, Min- 
den, Munich, Stettin, Stuttgart ; how the names 
on the carriages would have taxed the geograph- 
ical attainments of a French field-marshal! 
And how he would have been scandalized by 
the numeroiis vehicles, German by right of 
conquest, bearing the familiar legend " Est de 
France," and Avith their capacity of transport 
indicated in kilogrammes on the corner ! On 
every one of them was painted conspicuously 
the amount of animated war material they were 
warranted to carry — " forty men, or six horses ;" 
"sixty men, or eight horses," etc. It was all 
of a piece with the carefully detailed Prussian 
organization. A train of carriages moves up : 
a rapid sum in simple addition, and the officer 
superintending tells off" the precise number of 
men to fill it. 

While thus exercising our powers of obser- 
vation, our train had been formed ; its numer- 
ous passenger-carriages absolutely insignificant 
in their proportion to the interminable goods- 



ON THE TEAIL OP THE WAR. 



19 



trucks. A la guerre coimne a la guerre. The 
conductor grinned at our putting out a feeler to- 
wards somewhat less Spartan accommodation 
by exhibiting the high-class tickets we had ex- 
travagantly purchased, and assured us we had 
but a Hobson's choice — a third-class carriage, or 
none at all. We felt ashamed of having at- 
tempted even that tacit remonstrance. It show- 
ed how human nature demoralizes under un- 
looked-for prosperity, and how easily the hum- 
ble camp-follower resumed the airs of the full- 
blown tourist. Only the day before, and we 
should have gladly compotmded for jolting to 
Saarbruck on the knife-board of an ammuni- 
tion-cart. 

It was a strange mixture in the train. Sol- 
diers and peasants ; Krankenpfleger of all ranks 
and many races, most of them Germans, a good 
many Belgians, and some Dutch. The occu- 
pants of our compartment were, for the most 
part, small peasant proprietors bound to stations 
on the line, but there were one or two superior 
employes in the great industrial establishments 
of the Saar valley. Then, for the first time, I 
fairly experienced that extreme courtesy and 
thoughtful good-nature which made the whole 
tour as pleasant as a war-tour could be made. 
Proud of their successes, and the patriotism 
and organization that had won them, exulting 
in the fair horizon opening to them beyond the 
sea of blood and the smoke of battle, the Ger- 
mans seemed to take your visiting them, in the 
circumstances, as a personal compliment, if not 
something more. Turning out of the valley of 
the Moselle by the banks of the Saar, the rail- 
way carries you through scenery of extraordi- 
nary beauty. We chanced to have taken our 
seats on the side of the carriage where we saw 
more of the profitable than the ornamental. 
We looked out on vineyard terraces, instead of 
hills wooded to their crests ; up at trim stone 
walls, instead of down over precipices upon the 
river. Moreover, the sun was beating into one's 
eyes, and there were no curtains. The natives 
at the opposite window absolutely insisted upon 
our taking their seats ; while the peasants on 
either side emulously moved along to make way 
for us. We thanked them as best we could 
with what they seemed most to appreciate — our 
honest admiration of their country. 

Any one who knows much of the Ehineland 
must have found out that its softest beauties 
modestly nestle away by the banks of its tribu- 
tary streams. After the " bit " by Nonnenwerth 
and the Siebengebirge, the reach by St. Goar 
and the Lurlei, there is nothing on the great 
river to compare with scenes on the Moselle, 
the Aar, and the Nahe. But perhaps the valley 



of the Saar surpasses them all ; and had not 
the coal-fields of the basin put a practical stamp 
on their aspirations, their ambition to annex it 
might have upset our preconceptions as to the 
love of the Prench for the beautiful. Not that 
a corps darmee advancing by that road on the 
Rhine would have made a pleasant summer 
tour of it, although they might have counted 
upon excitement in abundance. The fortress 
of Saarlouis is the key of the lock ; but, even had 
that been taken or masked, it would have been 
hard work forcing or turning the successive 
wards. The river fiows by a series of natural 
positions, and German tenacity would have 
made the ground the march lay over horribly 
holding. Prom picturesque Saarburg, with its 
mediaeval fortress of the prince-bishop of Tours, 
up to Saarlouis, the modern fortress of the kings 
of Prussia, the river runs out and in by the feet 
of hills wooded to their summits with beech and 
oak, scarred here and there with red precipices. 
A veritable red land, although not in the Sua- 
bian circle : red rocks and red soil, and a red 
river in flood after a heavy rainfall ; red brick 
manufactories, where the red clay is wrought to 
porcelain, and workmen — for the establishments 
were at work, although on half strength — smear- 
ed with red from the caps to the boots. Between 
these industrial centres the river was lovely and 
peaceful enough, with kingfishers and water- 
weeds fiitting about red stones patched with 
orange lichens. " Sehr Jiscfireich," remarked 
one of our local acquaintances ; and so it seem- 
ed to be ; for wherever it narrowed to a pond, a 
fisher was pretty sure to be at work with his 
primitive tub and sink-net, and every now and 
then, where it spread to a shallow, there was a 
solemn heron, with his eye riveted eagerly on 
the muddy waters. 

The valley widens to a plain where Saarlouis 
shelters among its earth-works and ditches. 
In the swampy fields great herds of cattle plash- 
ed disconsolately about. In scenery, climate, 
accessories, and every thing else, the place was 
a study for a Dutch landscape-painter. The 
prominent points, staring coats, and fevered eyes 
of the animals penned by the side of the line, 
showed that broken weather and long marches 
were telling on their constitutions as on those 
of the troops. The best you could wish for 
them and those destined to eat them was that 
they might have a prompt dispatch, and be 
speedily converted into rations. 

The platform swarmed with soldiers, wear- 
ing all manner of regimental numbers on their 
shoulder-straps. Many of them seemed there 
as simple amateurs, although it may be assumed 
they were only suifered to cumber the place on 



20 



ON THE TKAIL OF THE WAE. 



some legitimate pretext. Many others were 
destined to be fellow-passengers of ours, for 
they had their full field equipment with them — 
the cowskin knapsack, with the bright tin dishes 
strapped outside, and a pair of spare boots se- 
cured on the top ; the overcoat, compressed 
into the tightest of rolls, secured together at 
the ends, and worn across the body as a belt ; 
the ample gourd, and the inevitable tobacco- 
pouch ; and last, not least, the needle - gun, 
with its sword-bayonet and the roomy cartridge- 
box. One or two of them — men of the locali- 
ty, doubtless — were the centre of little groups 
of weeping women and sobbing children. A 
good many more clasped in theii's the hand of 
a chere amie. These were the ruptures of a 
garrison flirtation more or less serious ; and 
the heroes seemed much more animated at the 
prospect of glory to the front than depressed by 
thoughts of the girls they left behind them. 

In process of time, these martial travellers 
were ushered to their seats by martial masters 
of the ceremonies. " Eoom for the military !" 
exclaimed a commanding voice at the door of 
our compartment ; and while we civilians heap- 
ed ourselves and our packages away at one side, 
three soldiers were added to our party. Not- 
withstanding the relentless rains, there had, as 
yet, been little sickness in the fields ; but some 
there had been. These three men had been 
invalided and sent back to Saai'louis, and now 
they were under orders for Bingen. Very good 
types of three classes of the ordinary German 
rank and file they were. One looked the born 
soldier all over, with " a lurking devil in his 
eye," as if he would just as soon as not walk up 
to a battery ; and an occasional good-humored 
twinkle in the corner of it, as if he could take 
things tolerably contentedly in the roughest 
bivouac, although, en revanche, tmless sharply 
looked after, he would attend to his little com- 
forts and luxuries in the first occupied town. 
Another, a good-looking, broad-shouldered 
man, of some five-and~thirty, had a profoundly 
pensive expression, and yoxx could see plainly 
his mind was far away in some distant home- 
stead, and just as plainly that the thought of all 
he was fighting for would make him, perhaps, 
the more formidable enemy of the two in the 
hour of battle, 

"More dreadful far his ire, 
Than theirs who, scorning danger's name, 
In eager mood to battle came, 
Their valor like light straw on flame, 

A fierce but fading fire." 

The third was what many German soldiers look 
when I'egarded as individual specimens — a lout. 
Mass these men, and leaven them through oth- 



ers, and you can trace no flaw — if flaws there 
be — in the formidable machine they are welded 
into. You may smile at him as he slouches 
about the platform, but see him with his fellows, 
and, as Figaro said of the corps of sapeurs-pom- 
piers, whose units all Paris welcomed and made 
fun of, ' ' Je vovsjure que personne ne songe en rh-e." 
The professional soldier gave us an animated 
account of the storming of the Spicherenberg, 
and not the worst one of the very many I have 
heard since. A tender of the cognac - flask, 
thankfully accepted, bound them heart and soul 
to us for the rest of the journey ; and it was 
curious to remark the native politeness with 
which even the lout sought to repay the slight 
attention by insisting on relieving us of our 
knapsacks and umbrellas, and handing them 
out after us at Saarbruck station. 

"Saarbruck's reputation has been made by 
the war, like that of far more insignificant 
places. Yet it was not only a thriving but a 
handsome little town, and deserved much more 
than a mere local reputation. With its suburb 
of St. Johann, it sweeps round the Saar in a 
couple of crescents, and town and suburbs are 
linked by a couple of handsome bridges. So 
far as the historical "bombardment" went, 
Saarbruck has I'eceived a good deal of unde- 
served compassion, and tlie French a great deal 
of unmerited obloquy. The free use of the rail- 
way-station, set as it is at the junction of three 
lines of railway, was a point of great strategical 
consequence to the Germans, whose trains could 
be seen from the opposite heights plying with 
soldiers and stores. Accordingly, the French 
got their guns in position, and very naturally 
shelled it. But their practice was good, though 
the range was long; and only one or two houses' 
facing the heights, in the street leading up from 
the suburb to the station, seemed to have suf- 
fered materially from their fire ; only the Gast- 
hof zum Pflug was abandoned ; a shot or two 
had gone clean through the upper stories, and 
some others had knocked the cornice about and 
damaged the roof. The fa9ade of the handsome 
railway-station and one of the twin towers bore 
marks of the shells ; tumbling debris had broken 
a good many of the panes in the glass roof; but 
as for the heaps of smouldering ruins that ap- 
peared in the graphic pictures of some of " our 
correspondents," these must have been photo- 
graphed by an angry fancy or under the influ- 
ence of a nightmare. There was some little 
firing on the town afterwards, while the Prus- 
sians still hung upon that bank of the river and 
made a defensible post of it ; but certain it is 
there were little or no traces visible of any dam- 
age done. On the whole, Saarbruck has got 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



21 



off exceedingly well, considering by what a 
marvellous chance it escaped hostile occupa- 
tion. Frossard was in overwhelming force just 
in front, kept at bay by the mirage of an imag- 
inary German army. A single battalion of the 
40th, one or at most two squadrons of caval- 
ry, multiplied themselves so adroitly, that the 
French general had no conception of the real 
state of things. When it was decided to smear 
the unfortunate young Prince with that baptism 
of blood which it is almost ungenerous to refer 
to now, the Germans had nothing for it but to 
make a demonstration on the strength of the 
force attributed to them, and then withdraw. 
But reverse the situation, and conceive a Ger- 
man commander hoodwinked so successfully for 
days as to the real numbers of his enemy, and 
that with light-cavalry in plenty, and in a dis- 
trict where the natives on either side of the 
border-line talk a common language ! The 
jfighting in the town was not very serious, and 
those of the inhabitants who were in the streets 
managed to shelter themselves in doorways 
while it was going forward. After it was over, 
men from either army came in under ilags of 
truce to reclaim the dead and wounded. It 
must have been a strange scene, as eye-witness- 
es described it, that of the enemies meeting in 
the streets fresh from the affair. It was then 
the Prussians picked up the correspondent of 
the "Temps." It may be questioned whether 
that gentleman was not entitled to the privilege 
of the white flag, and so it seems to have struck 
his captoi's on second thoughts, for they speed- 
ily dismissed him, although his information 
might have been of no small importance to his 
friends. They had little reason for anxiety on 
that score. The French general would learn 
nothing of the German strength, even on such 
excellent authority. By-the-way, the dignity 
of the grand nation and of the Parisian press 
did not suffer in the person of their captive rep- 
resentative. Brought before the general, the 
prisoner drew himself up, twisted his mustache, 
presented himself as a military man en 7-et9-aite, 
reminded the enemy that the prisoners taken 
at Niederbronn had been received with distin- 
guished hospitality at the table of the French 
marshal, and intimated that he must insist upon 
identically similar treatment. 

The real ground for compassionating the 
people of Saarbruck is not the wanton destruc- 
tion of their pretty town, but its sudden conver- 
sion into a hospital. It is worse than sad to be 
swamped in a flood of wounded men, with little 
hope of its slacking while the war shall last. 
There seemed a chance of famine, and almost a 
certainty of pestilence following in the train of 



the ambulances. It is horrible to be crowded 
out of your homes by the dying ; to have to 
listen, in the quiet of evening, to a horrible con- 
cert of moans and groans ; to have your streets 
in the daj'-time filled with constant funeral 
trains, passing the overcrowded church-yards 
on their way to the dead-pits in the neighbor- 
ing country. Yet what is to the reflecting, per- 
haps, more melancholy still, is the inevitable 
demoralization of the lower classes by the vicin- 
ity of battle-fields, and the familiarizing them 
with appalling scenes of blood, and death, and 
pillage. 

For ourselves, if we had apprehended famine, 
we experienced nothing of it. If scarcity had 
threatened once, now supplies had come pour- 
ing in, and there was no lack of food, or, so far 
as we could see, of luxuries. There was no 
getting accommodation in the snug-looking ho- 
tels, of which there are several ; they were fill- 
ed from cellar to attic with military men, and 
friends and attendants of the wounded. But 
Herr Guepratte — civility itself amidst all his 
bustle — spared a man to hunt us up billets, and 
over the Cafe Venn we actually found a spa- 
cious double suite of rooms. The civil family 
there apologized for the bill of fare, very un- 
necessarily, on the ground that the house was 
nothing more than what it professed to be, and 
merely provisionally a hotel, and we made our 
pleasant early dinner with a party of military 
surgeons, who, strange to say in the circum- 
stances, confined themselves during the meal 
entirely to general subjects. 



CHAPTER V. 

SPICHEREN AND FORBACH. 

Our medical acquaintances had assured us 
that driving about the battle-field would be no 
economy of time, considering the state of the 
cross-roads, and our medical acquaintances 
proved to be quite right. So, as light was 
pi-ecious, we cut dinner short, and started in 
company of a German with whom we had ce- 
mented fast friendship in the course of the 
morning's travel. Saarbruck lies surrounded 
by heights on all sides, those to the south and 
west immediately dominating the town. The 
houses of the steep street thin gradually out 
into detached villas and straggling cottages, un- 
til finally it becomes a country road rising rap- 
idly to the col, over which it is carried to For- 
bach. On the heights immediately to the right 
of this col stands the Bellevne, the little public- 
house made historical by frequent allusions in 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAR. 



the earliest letters from the seat of war. To 
the right of it, again, lies the square, " Exer- 
cirplatz," hedged in by trim lines of poplars. 
The Bellevue commands, indeed, a superb view 
of the battle-field. The road you came by dips 
sharp down from the ridge you stand on, and 
then, trending away to the right, runs for some 
six miles straight as an arrow-shot into For- 
bach. Looking diagonally across it towards the 
left, and over a bare plain of unfenced corn- 
fields, the eye is brought up by the sheer face of 
a broad square bluff, running boldly out from 
the range of wooded hills that follows the line 
of the Forbach road, till they blend with the 
high conical one that backs up the town. That 
spur you are looking across to is the Spicheren 
heights, the key of the French position on the 
day of Forbach. To the right of it, as I have 
said, the steep range of hills runs back to For- 
bach ; to its left the ground dips gradually, un- 
til about half a mile off" the hills lose themselves 
in the meadows. To right and left, from plain 
to sky-line, the hills in general are densely 
wooded : the Spicherenberg alone is bare of 
cover, except for a solitary orchard to its left ; 
while over its brow you look across to a naked 
table-land, dotted only with a few fruit-trees 
and a group of poplars. So steep is it in places, 
that no soil will hold on the gravel-banks ; 
wherever industry had a chance, it has contrived 
to cultivate patches of green. It was against 
this tremendous natural wall, over this exposed 
plain, through a storm of shot, shell, and rifle- 
balls, that the Germans launched their columns ; 
and we followed as nearly as we could in the 
line of their advance. An experienced Eng- 
lish officer, who had witnessed the whole fight 
from first to last, assured me later that, in his 
opinion, had the Germans made their approach 
on the right flank of the French position, at- 
tacking from the foot of the hill to the left of 
the Spicheren, the heights might have been 
carried at a great economy of life. Knowing 
little of tactics, I felt fully inclined to agree 
with him when I saw the ground. His idea is 
the more plausible, that it seems certain that the 
Germans were drawn into making a battle of it. 
It was only towards three o'clock that General 
Von Goebel came on the ground and assumed 
the direction of the attack. Be that as it may, 
it can be scarcely a question now that all the 
lives lost on the Spicheren were well expended. 
Taken in conjunction with the twin engagement 
of the Geisberg, the shock it gave the morale of 
the French had an incalculable influence on the 
result of the war. Intrenched on the Spich- 
eren, they laughed at the insanity, the '■'■outre- 
cuidance " of those Prussians who came to de- 



liver themselves into their hands. Afterwards, 
in their headlong flight through the woods of 
St. Avoid, they would have called it insanity to 
re-form among the rifle-pits with which these 
tremendous positions were everywhere honey- 
combed. 

Crossing the plain in question, perhaps the 
most sensational souvenir we came upon was the 
last of the horses which were still in course of bu- 
rial. But there was an abundance of other rel- 
ics of one sort or another : knapsacks torn open, 
beaten into the mud by rain and footsteps ; 
German helmets and French shakoes, the eagles 
on the latter generally torn away, and not a 
few of the one and the other drilled with the fa- 
tal round hole ; cooking-utensils and soup-tins 
trodden under foot; gourds by the score, car- 
tridge-boxes by the hundred, shreds of uniform, 
broken straps, and, above all, scraps of weather- 
beaten paper by the ream. At the foot of the 
heights, we picked up a convalescent soldier of 
the 40th who had been through all the earlier 
part of the engagement, and been wounded on 
the plateau, and whose evidence, tested by cross- 
examination, bore all the stamp of veracity ; still 
weak, he found it hard work dragging himself 
up the heights, for the rain was falling thick, 
and the ground was heavy. Fresh as we were, 
we did not find it particularly easy ourselves, 
and yet we could take our time and stop to 
breathe ourselves among the graves of the men 
whose comrades had carried it. It was only 
rain-drops, not French bullets, that were beating 
down upon us. On the first mound we came to, 
the wooden cross bore the legend : " Hier i-ulien 
in Friede Hauptman Olaff,'' etc. Another pull, 
and we were in the orchard of cherr3'-trees, their 
twigs cut across, and their limbs maimed and 
mangled, while the balls had stripped the bark 
from the trunks in rings, until, with the yellow 
stripes on the brown background, they lookedlike 
so many frontier barrier-posts. Then, in a lap of 
the ground on the face of the hill, we c^me on 
a light earth-work. Then upon more graves — 
twenty-eight, sixty-nine, eighty men lying in 
them. Earth breast-works ran all round the 
crest of the hill, now and again in double lines. 
In fact, the French had brought art and science 
to the aid of nature, and done nearly all that 
men could do to make a most foi'midable posi- 
tion impregnable. No wonder that so many 
of the assailants were shot in the head, feet, 
and hands. Firing down over these intrench- 
ments, bullets could hardly fail of finding bloody 
billets; the head "protected" the body, while 
the climbing feet and hands were out of the line 
of cover. If the French fired a little wild, their 
shots only missed the stormers to tell on the 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



23 



supports. Doubtless the German shells had 
done something towards clearing out the in- 
trenchments and sweeping the plateau, or no 
mortal man could have lived to reach them. 
But one can only offer this dilemma to the 
French : either their fire was fairly dominated 
by that of the Germans in the artillery duel — 
which they deny — or the Germans drove their 
enemy from an intrenched position, nearly per- 
pendicular, strongly protected by batteries in full 
activity. Not the least wonderful feat of that 
marvellous day was the dragging up a couple of 
German field-pieces, and getting them into po- 
sition on the plateau. When the French guns 
withdrew through Spicheren village, on the line 
of Forbach, their shot, sweeping over the heights, 
went pitching on the plain below. The result 
was that the Prussian wounded suffered heavily. 
The best that could be done for them was to 
drag them forward under the shelter of the 
heights, for there was only greater danger to- 
wards the rear. A friend had a wounded sol- 
dier killed in his arms as he was raising him from 
the ground, and volunteers assisted at the work 
of mercy at no little personal peril. Yet there 
were women there as active as the men ; and one 
in especial made herself conspicuous as she 
moved about with her water-bottle through shell 
and rifle-balls, as if she were really a minister- 
ing spirit invulnerable to mortal missiles. 

On the table-land above were the traces of 
the deserted camp — the withered boughs stuck 
into the ground, the cooking trenches, the char- 
red ashes of the fires. The battle had raged 
fiercely in the skirts of the wood to the left, as 
you could tell from the bullet-marks on the 
trees and the cartridge-cases that strewed the 
ground so thickly. Here lay a pile of French 
shakos ; then you came on a ditch choked 
with heaps of debris of the battle-field, knap- 
sacks and clothes, with boots and brushes. 
Farther on towards the village was another 
huge square grave-mound ; and a little apart 
a smaller one. A French colonel and his son 
slept together on the spot where they had fall- 
en. The retreating troops had been followed 
up through Spicheren village. Judging by ap- 
pearances, slight stand had been made there, al- 
though the chuixh-walls and windows had suf- 
fered. In the gardens that came up to the 
houses, French beans some weeks old clung to 
their poles in wild luxuriance ; and the potato- 
patches had neither been trampled nor, strange 
to say, robbed. The rapid chase had probably 
followed close on the retreat, one and the other 
keeping to the road. 

The church stands close to the corner of the 
village you enter by. Become successively, by 



the chances of war, a surgery and a dead-house, 
it had again recovered its sacred character. It 
was Sunday afternoon, and the melancholy jin- 
gle of the bells was not out of keeping with the 
ghastly trench half-filled in over one hundred 
and nine of the fallen, which yawned by the 
east end, waiting for the doomed men in the 
village. One of them, a Frenchman, had al- 
ready come for his turn, and lay under a blanket 
in the adjoining shed, sharing it with a pile of 
blood-stained stretchers. Within the building 
seats and benches had been replaced, and all 
signs of its recent use cleared away, as far 
as possible, although on some of the boards 
there were stains there was no washing out. 
Men, for the most part in black blouses, and 
women each wearing a black ribbon or some 
such sign of mourning, were flocking in and 
ranging themselves on opposite sides. The of- 
ficiating priests seemed oppressed by the solem- 
nity of the scenes they ministered among : the 
women were grave and devout ; as for the men, 
use and coarser organization had naturally 
bred indifference ; like their vegetables, they 
raised their heads after the passage of the storm 
as if nothing had happened ; they whispered and 
laughed and nudged each other as they pointed 
to the strangers and their Prussian guide. With 
all these grotesque incongruities, you felt you 
were never likely to assist again at a more im- 
pressive service. The tone of the organ must 
have been really as wretched as the execution 
of the performer ; yet the notes seemed to chime 
in with the solemn memories attaching to the 
building, until they rolled round the white- 
washed walls in a wail of intense melancholy. 

The village streets are broad and steep; a 
narrow paved causeway in the middle^ sloping 
to a deep gutter at the sides, and flanked by a 
wide space, strewed with primitive ploughs and 
harrows, broken cart-wheels and piles of fire- 
wood, and patrolled by gaunt grunting swine. 
The houses were more German than French, 
with their steep red roofs and broad eaves, and 
whitewashed gables checkered with inlaid beams. 
Barns, their end formed of a pair of huge swing- 
ing doors opening upon the road, alternated with 
the dwelling-houses. Over each of these was 
displayed the flag of the lazzarette ; the doors 
stood wide open, to give free admission to the 
air ; while before each a Prussian sentinel leaned 
his chin wearily on the muzzle of his needle-gun, 
or sauntered carelessly along, kicking pebbles 
into the swollen drains. We crossed to the 
nearest one, directly opposite the church-yard 
door, and looked in upon a double row of beds, 
about a dozen of them on either hand, and each 
with its occupant. Naturally all these men, 



24 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAE. 



left in the very heart of the battle-field, were 
among the desperately wounded. Had you not 
known you were in Spicheren you could have 
told as much as that at a glance. With a soli- 
tary exception — a man with his head swathed 
in bandages, straining his eyes over a book in 
the dim light at the back of the barn — not a face 
among them showed consciousness of our pres- 
ence as our figures darkened the doorway. If 
their glance met yours, it never rested there ; it 
went wandering vacantly about on an objectless 
errand, or gazed wildly beyond you, far away 
into some other world. Surest test of their 
hopeless state, there was not a cigar among the 
whole of them ; and tobacco is the sovei-eign 
anodyne that all these mangled men are con- 
stantly craving. But how can you smoke with 
a shot through the lungs, or when the volition is 
so enfeebled that you have neither thought nor 
energy to keep the cigar alight ? 

On the bed to the left, and full in the door- 
way, a single ray of light struggling to his face 
through the branches of the elm by the church- 
yard gate, lay a young Frenchman, Jules Eaubin 
— so said the card by the bed-head. He was far 
past annoyance from the sun, had the light been 
stronger ; for his eyes were closed, probably for 
the last time, and in his face was no sign what- 
ever of pain. His features, sharpened by pain 
and wasting, were classic in almost faultless 
regularity ; and if there was any symptom of 
consciousness, it was in the reflection of the 
faint sweet smile that flickered about his lips as 
if he were dreaming pleasantly. All the while 
he waved mechanically the green branch they 
had placed in his hand ; but even as you looked 
the movement slackened, and you could see a 
ghastly change slowly draw itself, like a veil, 
over the pallor of his complexion — Poor Jules 
Eaubin! It was a melancholy death-bed for 
one who looked as if he had been born for a 
happy life ; and yet, as far as material comforts 
went, he was probably infinitely better off than 
thousands of his fellow-sufferers. Picked up 
and sheltered on the field he fell on, his sufter- 
ings had been comparatively softened to him, 
and in no hospital ward could he have hoped 
for a much more comfortable bed, although his 
mattress was stretched on an earthen floor. The 
stolid peasant nurse bent with some tenderness 
over his pillow, and passed her coarse hand gen- 
tly enough across his forehead. As for Jules 
Eaubin, had it been his mother or his betrothed 
who tended him, it would have been all the same 
to him. 

In the next barn we came to, the cases were 
more mortal still. The shadow of death was 
heavy on every face that lay on the double row 



of pillows, broken in two places by ominous 
blanks. Selfishly speaking, the wretchedness 
of scenes like those of Spicheren was that you 
could offer no help — no more than empty sym- 
pathy. It was impossible to outrage a dying 
man with a commoniDlace remark. The Sister 
of Charity busying herself with one of the strong- 
est of them found in him a distracted auditor. 
Pain was too strong for him : the cold sweat 
trickled profusely from his forehead, and I ques- 
tion much if he were conscious any one was read- 
ing to him or trying to clasp him by the hand. 

It was eloquent of the gravity of the cases 
here, that thi-ee watchers were detached for at- 
tendance on about a score of wounded. It was 
a strange picture — it might have been a bit from 
Boccaccio — these three men busy with their 
cards at a table by the door, while the Angel of 
Death was fluttering his wings among the beds 
they were set to watch. They played on, duly 
calling the cards, as they slapped them softly 
down on the table, in a voice of suppressed ex- 
citement ; and, meantime, one of the wounded 
had raised himself on hands and knees, and was 
shrieking horribly. It was clear he was delir- 
ious, and so the attendants said when we inter- 
rupted their game to call their attention to him, 
and his neighbors were very far past being dis- 
turbed by his cries. Yet the scene was horrible 
to nerves that were not case-hardened ; and these 
piercing crieS rang in one's ears long after we 
had left the village. After all, the callousness 
of the attendants, although revolting to new- 
comers, was only one of the subsidiary horrors 
inseparable from war. If a nurse were cursed 
with a stock of sensibility sufficient to survive 
all that these men must have witnessed since the 
evening of the battle, he would be uttei-ly un- 
fitted for his task. The beds were beautifully 
clean, and the bedding carefully smoothed. The 
men evidently discharged their duties conscien- 
tiously, although they sacrificed nothing to sen- 
timent, and little to sensibility. Boors and 
peasants must learn to think lightly of human 
lives, when they see with what indifference their 
rulers sacrifice them by thousands. 

We dropped our German friend at the out- 
skirts of the village ; and as our wounded Prus- 
sian had had more than enough of exercise, 
he took leave of us too, vaguely indicating to 
us the direction of Forbach. For some time 
we followed in the ruts of the French artil- 
lery wheels : some had kept to the lanes ; oth- 
ers had held parallel lines across country. 
Here an earth-bank was tumbled down to 
bridge the ditch; there a low stone wall was 
breached. It was war-time, a conquered dis- 
trict, and a Sunday afternoon, and the country 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAE. 



25 



was deserted : even with a flock of sheep we 
came on there was nothing but a dog on duty. 
From each ridge before us we expected to com- 
mand a view of Forbach ; from each we saw 
nothing but another one, limiting our prospect 
to a few hundred yards. At last a sharp dip 
landed us in a French village, nestled in wal- 
nut-trees and girdled with orchards. The wom- 
en were standing in groups about their doors, 
chattering like jackdaws ; the men — not very 
many of these — seated croaking like rooks in a 
row on the church-yard wall. The men were 
distant in their looks and manners, but not more 
so than the natives of a back-of-the-world vil- 
lage often are. The ladies volunteered a hearty 
guten Abend, and clamored against each other in 
directing us on our road. There was not a 
German uniform within many a kilometre. 
They probably took us for Germans walking in 
the rear of the invading host, and there seemed 
no reason why they should not have been elo- 
quent of their patriotic animosity, if nothing 
worse ; yet there and elsewhere in our walk we 
met nothing but civility, and we had repeatedly 
occasion to ask our way. We traversed more 
than one village ; we took picturesque short cuts 
through the beech-woods. At length we struck 
the Saarguemines road, full eight kilometres on 
the wrong side of Forbach, and set ourselves, 
somewhat sulkily, to plod them out between the 
inevitable poplars. Nearly every second tree 
had the trunk grazed by the wheels of German 
wagons. French and Germans always, where 
practicable, drive them two abreast, and conse- 
quently the carriages are habitually jolting up 
against the trees. No wonder they carry a 
spare wheel in case of accident. That they 
hold together at all through a long campaign 
says every thing for the excellence of the work- 
manship. 

Forbach, like Saarbruck, lies below wooded 
hills, that almost close upon it to the south. 
There is the long street, with some short side 
ones that are brought sharp up by the high 
ground before they have well started on their 
own account ; a conspicuous church-tower or 
so, and some rather imposing houses in the out- 
skirts. We came down from the table-land we 
had been wandering round, descending a steep 
pitch tliat turned the flanks of the woods cloth- 
ing the western slopes and stretching back to 
Spicheren. We crossed at its southern end the 
valley traversed by the Saarbruck road, passed 
a couple of wooden field hospitals that had been 
hastily run up, met a couple of funerals on their 
way to the subui-ban cemetery, and found our- 
selves in the town. The street was sadly deck- 
ed with flags, for each flag marked a lazaret. 



It swarmed with German soldiers, who blocked 
the pavements, and lolled out of the first-floor 
windows, and crowded the steps before the mai- 
rie, where the proclamations of King Frederick 
William were afiixed in French and German. 
The number of eccentric offenses made capital 
under the new military code must have been ex- 
citing reading for the inhabitants. 

It must be confessed, however, they were ei- 
ther accomplished hypocrites to a child, or else 
Lotharingia has no profound objection to Ger- 
man reannexation. The men circulated through 
their own streets with perfect freedom of action 
and manner, exchanging friendly words and 
nods with their new masters. The women, 
gathered in the open air, stood gossiping with 
their hands under their aprons and their heads 
in the air, watching their children crawling 
about with impunity among the German boots. 
There was little flirtation. Flirtation is rather 
at a discount among an army something smack- 
ing of the Puritan, profoundly impressed with 
the gravity of the struggle it has undertaken, and 
largely leavened, moreover, with family men. 
But, on the other hand, pretty young girls co- 
quettishly attired, sauntered arm-in-arm along 
the pavements. If things had turned out the 
other way, and had the French been masters of 
Saarbruck, I question much if the Prussian maid- 
ens could have safely sunned their innocence and 
attractions in the eyes of Zouaves and Turcos. 

Perhaps the trait of flie occupation that was 
most borne home to a pair of muddy and thirsty 
pedestrians was that every cafe and beer-shop 
in the place was closed, or, at least, diverted to 
alien purposes. There were one or two inns, to 
be sure, but the passages were blockedjsvith such 
dense masses of military that it seemed hopeless 
to try to force them. We stopped to recruit at 
a garden beer-house without the town, upon the 
Saarbruck road, and found it crowded to the 
door with civilians like ourselves. Of course 
the war was the theme of their talk ; but had 
the French been across the Main, instead of the 
Germans over the frontier and in the middle of 
them, they could not, apparently, have discuss- 
ed it in more entire enjoyment. Eemarking 
our muddy boots, the host asked casually if we 
had come from Metz, just as if the I'oad was 
open still, and no hostile division interposed be- 
tween us and the maiden fortress. The man 
next us knew something more of the situation, 
for he remarked that he only wished the gen- 
tlemen had : he had a couple of brothers in the 
garrison, and would willingly give a hundred 
francs to have the last news from the town. 

The battle had raged all along the seven kil- 
ometres of valley along which we walked back 



26 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAR. 



to the "Bellevue." To right and left the 
fields were dotted with graves and crosses ; 
here and there the dead had been buried actu- 
ally on the border of the Route Imperiale — a 
better guaranty, perhaps, for the inviolability 
of their resting-places. Then we came on 
farm-buildings that had been held and stormed, 
the doors and window-frames shivered into 
splinters, the tiles shattered, the walls set with 
bullet-marks as thick as the spots in a lady's 
muslin. Then a little inn, gutted and half- 
roofless ; one or two seltzer-water bottles in a 
doorless cupboard, the only relics of its furni- 
ture. The French barrier-posts lay broken 
down, and the octroi station was the abomination 
of desolation. To the left, the vast furnaces in 
the works of Steyring had long gone out, and 
the streets of workmen's cottages stood well-nigh 
tenantless. Every here and there you crossed 
the track of the German guns, where they had 
emerged from the fields on to the high-road ; 
and where the woods approached, you could see 
their edges fringed everywhere with the white 
cartridge-papers, marking the line where the 
French tide of war stood so long on the turn 
before it ebbed back upon Forbach and St. 
Avoid. Last, and most repulsive of the sights 
of the day, was the great dead-pit below the Ex- 
ercirplatz. Some head-stones and crosses guess- 
ed at the spot where individual bodies might re- 
pose among the nameless crowd. Twilight was 
settling down, and two or three belated laborers 
were throwing back the soil on the latest arriv- 
als for that day, while a half-dozen of tearful 
mourners stood wistfully following the move- 
ment of the shovels. One of the grave-diggers 
struck u% He was revoltingly hideous, with 
bloodshot ej'cs, and swollen, discolored features 
— just such a figure as Mr. Harrison Ainsworth 
would delight to elaborate, and the very man 
for the work and the hour. Who could help 
feeling for the sorrow reduced to mourn over 
such a grave in such company? We felt the 
curiosity and comparative indifference of the 
traveller were out of place ; and it was a relief 
to ourselves when we could mix ourselves up in 
the long line of empty munition-wagons and 
captured guns that chanced to be passing just 
then on their way to Saarbruck. 



CHAPTER VI. 

TRAVELLING WITH THE WOUNDED. 

At Saarbruck junction the three lines con- 
verge which connected Germany with the corps 
of Prince Frederick Charles and Genei'al Stein- 



metz. It is in direct railway communication 
with Treves, Bingen, and Ludwigshafen on the 
one side ; with Metz and the department of the 
Upper Moselle on the other. In the way of 
war bustle, accordingly, we may take it as a 
representative station. Sentries were stationed 
outside, to warn the curious that there was no 
admission except on business. The spacious 
refreshment-rooms were converted into a sur- 
gery and dispensary; the luggage department 
was choked with dust, and dressings for the 
wounded. Wherever there was a spare corner, 
there slumbered a wearied soldier snatching a 
few minutes' rest in transit. All day long 
there were snoring bundles of uniform crowded 
on the tables and under them. The space to 
the left of the station was a fair, cumbered with 
benches, casks, and baskets, where old women 
and girls vended bread and sausages and hard- 
boiled eggs, wine and Schnapps, and Kirschwas- 
ser. The platform was a moving mass of sol- 
diers, who had spent days in their clothes, in pa- 
tient expectation of trains that might ultimately 
carry them to join their regiments ; of Kranken- 
pfleger of all ages and castes, either on duty at 
Saarbruck or pressing forward to the front ; of 
Knights of St. John in shooting-coats, with the 
badge of the Order of Mercy pendent conspicu- 
ously on their shirt-fronts ; of Sisters of Chari- 
ty, professional and amateur, in costume and 
out of it ; of laborers, with pick and spade, 
bound to the new military railway-works by 
Metz ; of organized corps of grave-diggers, with 
shovel and pick ; a pushing, consequential, cor- 
pulent English parson, in black wide-awake and 
shooting-coat, of the church militant, seeming- 
ly just the man to carry the confidence of a 
charitable association on his own earnest recom- 
mendation, and then ruffle every susceptibility 
and nerve of the people and wounded he was 
sent to care for ; a mendicant monk or two of 
the order of St. Francis, taking things easily, 
from force of habit, and looking as if they ought 
to be able to rough it for a good many lean 
days on the ample store of flesh their provi- 
dence had accumulated through years of peace 
and plenty ; a band of captive French officers, 
victualled for a journey towards the unknown 
with long bran-loaves and strings of sausages. 
Finally, a number of peasants with blouses and 
bundles, travelling on private affairs, and a 
strong force of overworked railway officials. 

"Place for the wounded!" The crowd 
opens, and somehow finds room to fall back : 
the Bingen train has moved up to the platform ; 
its approaching departure has been announced 
at the hospitals, and the procession of crippled 
and mangled passengers it is to carry with it 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAE. 



27 



is setting across the platform. Men borne on 
stretchers striving successfully to command their 
groans, but utterly unable to control their writh- 
ing features, and clutching with cramped fingers 
at the stretcher-poles. Others, with heads bound 
up, and, except for the whites of their eyes, with 
every drop of blood drained out of their faces. 
Others limping past leaning on crutches of wood 
or kindly props of flesh and blood ; here and 
there a form pitifully wasted carried past in the 
arms of a stalwart compatriot. It was pleasant 
to witness the gentleness with which the soldiers, 
detailed for the duty, applied their strength to 
the supporting their suffering comrades ; but it 
made one shudder to see shattered forms con- 
signed to the dark purgatory of the horse-box- 
es, and packed away thick as they could lie on 
thin trusses of straw. Sometimes it almost 
seemed gratuitous cruelty this moving the men 
from the stretchers ; but the supply of stretchers 
was limited, and hands educated, unfortunately, 
by ample recent experience, managed it some- 
how. The victim M'as raised shoulder-high to 
a level with the floor of the horse-box, and dis- 
appeared in its recesses. One I could see shot 
clean through the middle of the body : as he 
had managed to live, he might possibly travel ; 
but fancy being jolted for twelve or twenty 
hours in that condition to his next halting- 
place. Meantime, lady-nurses were hurrying 
about, lifting basins of bouillon to the lips of the 
patients, handing in rolls and ham for their re- 
freshment on the journey — wholesome as the 
food was, scarcely the thing, we would have 
said, to tempt a fevered patient. As the train 
made ready to move oft', a Krankenpjieger, told 
off for the duty, took his place in each of the 
vans that carried the gravest cases. 

Thanks to the courtesy of two wounded offi- 
cers, who turned out their servant to make room 
for me, I found a seat in the only first-class car- 
riage on the train. One of my companions had 
been shot through the leg at Spicheren ; the 
other had been wounded in the arm at Grave- 
lotte. Both were able and willing to converse. 
I heard the story of the battles and the thou- 
sand little incidents of the war from active eye- 
witnesses. With no idea of being reported, or 
having their confidence abused for the enter- 
tainment of the British public, they gave ani- 
mated rehearsals of the glorious ti-agedy of the 
Spicheren — vivid sketches of the formidable 
positions that were forced at Metz. They both 
appreciated the formidable qualities of the mi- 
trailleuse, and gave what I should fancy were 
fairly creditable imitations of the mortal rattle 
that never seems to have done. It is fortunate, 
perhaps, for the morale of the German rank and 



file, that the French tacticians handled these 
new-fangled murder-mills so awkwardly in the 
early battles. Not that we have a right to say 
that any certainty of death would have daunted 
the men who carried the French positions. An 
English acquaintance, who saw the Spicheren 
affair and the fight by Metz, assured me that 
anything lil^e the German "obstinacy" he had 
never witnessed ; and he has seen some hard 
fighting in his time. You might destroy them 
on the ground they gained, but nothing short 
of their own bugles sounding the recall could 
persuade them to relinquish it. Slightly un- 
steady the young troops might sometimes be, 
but they generally kept their heads in the wild- 
est of the battle, and their officers had them ad- 
mirably in hand. As for the French, their 
nervous excitement seemed too much for them 
and for discipline. One of my acquaintances 
had once come very near being cut off' with a 
party of the 40th. They heard a shout in the 
rear, and, looking over their shoulders, saw a 
party of Zouaves advancing at the double. 
" Could the Zouaves," he said, "have resisted 
the temptation to that shout, they must have 
infallibly had us to a man." 

At every one of the numerous stations on the 
road to Bingen, the long train was beset by 
crowds of the citizens and country people. 
They came laden with every sort of refresh- 
ment. The wine from the vineyards on the 
slopes above streamed down in floods on the 
rail. There were caldrons of steaming soup 
and pailfuls of coffee ; basketfuls of ham, bread, 
sausages, and fruit ; trays of cigars. It was a 
country through which, for a month past, mass- 
es of men had been steadily on the move ; yet 
the poorest villagers found some wine still in 
their little cellars, and were too eager to proffer 
it. Surely, if ever people believed in a holy 
war, for which no sacrifice could be too heavy, 
this is the one. In other circumstances, the 
eagerness with which they clustered on the car- 
riage-steps and pressed their faces against the 
carriage-panes, would have been an insupport- 
able nuisance. In circumstances like these no 
one could help feeling they had paid many 
times over for a good long stare at their wound- 
ed heroes. More than once behind the strug- 
gling ci'owd I saw a woman in deep black, 
keeping herself apart, weeping silently. She 
could not resist the attraction of the melancholy 
pageant, and yet the sight only reminded her of 
some recent bereavement which had robbed her 
of all personal interest in the sadly - freighted 
trains. But there was scarcely a station where 
some one did not come to pray the officers for 
news of some missing relative, who, as they 



28 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



fondly hoped, was only desperately wounded. 
Naturally, in no case could they be sent away 
with better-defined comfort than the assurance 
that such-and-such a regiment had not been en- 
gaged in such-and-such an affair, or fortunately 
had been but little cut up in it. One venerable 
enthusiast who had been out in the '13 forced 
his way to the front to volunteer his hazy rem- 
iniscences of that campaign, and to express his 
readiness to assist in person at another Leipsic. 
• — Now that the Wacht am Rhein had been 
changed to an advance on Paris, the population 
of this border country had begun to breathe 
again. Relieved from the apprehension of be- 
ing desolated, beggared, and outraged by hos- 
tile occupation, they were too glad to impover- 
ish themselves for the relief of their saviours. 
They had a very narrow escape of it. Had the 
French Emperor been a shade more ready, the 
administrative system of the Second Empire a 
shade less rotten, the French eagles would have 
infallibly had their claws on that fair country, 
preying on its vitals till they should wing their 
crippled flight back to their frontiers. At first 
Von Moltke sent no troops by rail farther than 
Bingen. Leaving it to be imagined that they 
had marched forward abandoning the single 
line of rail to the transport of stores, he veiled 
his operations in absolute mystery. In reality, 
he was fully prepared to accept a French ad- 
vance ; quite determined to sacrifice no men in 
detail, but to mass his troops behind the Rhine, 
and leave the invaders to break their teeth on 
the Rhine fortresses. When the Emperor left 
him the nine days necessary for mobilizing, the 
situation changed, and, bar accident, Germany 
was safe. Von Moltke knew himself and the 
strength of his forces, and it became clear the 
French must be wanting either in resources or 
generalship. Now the vines of the Rhineland, 
revived by rains following on the long droughts, 
were ripening peacefully, and promising a splen- 
did year. It was on the vineyards and cellars 
of Champagne the effects of the wanton chal- 
lenge were to recoil. 



CHAPTER VII. 



THE HOSPITALS™ 



The French say Germany is absolutely dis- 
organized by the war ; and the French are right. 
Reason the more, retort the Germans, that we 
exact material guaranties against the recur- 
rence of such a drain on our dearest life-blood, 
of so fatal a check to our progress. How the 
national pulse may beat in the zones between 



the sea-ports blockaded by the enemy's fleet and 
the provinces hourly travelled by troops, pris- 
oners, and wounded, I have had no personal op- 
portunity of judging. But in towns like May- 
ence the men who are left at home have nei- 
ther heart nor time for their every-day avoca- 
tions. If trade stagnates, they care compara- 
tively little, so long only as they can exist them- 
selves and help their wounded brethren. How 
sit down calmly to your business, if you chance 
to have business to do, when the corps your sons 
are serving in is dwindling in a series of des- 
perate engagements, and when you are expect- 
ing every moment dispatches steeped in blood ? 
Your natural impulse is to consecrate your time 
to the cause ; to give your sympathies practical 
shape, and vent your excitement by superin- 
tending in person the expenditure of the money 
you are so free with. Citizens of every class 
seem to constitute themselves a committee of 
public safety in the best sense ; busying them- 
selves with preserving valuable lives to the Fa- 
therland, and alleviating the inevitable suffer- 
ings of its champions. Mayence is a central 
point of the German railway system ; and the 
strain on the local resources, first by division on 
division of the advancing troops, later by the 
crowds of retiring wounded and prisoners, has 
been excessive. Yet there have been no signs 
of breaking down, no stint of municipal liberal- 
ity. 

At all hours of the day and night the arrivals 
of trains of wounded are telegraphed on short 
notice to the authorities. The train is brought 
up alongside of a special platform, itself the hos- 
pital. A goods-shed of interminable length, 
left open on the side of the rail, has been closed 
in at the back by tarpaulin curtains that may 
be lifted or drawn aside. Side by side, and 
with ample intervals between for the surgeons, 
dressers, and attendants, are ranged a thousand 
beds. Is the weather sultry, you raise the tar- 
paulin and admit the air. Is it cold and windy, 
you can ventilate the place between the arrival 
of the trains. In the middle is a kitchen and a 
dispensary, in charge of leading ladies of the 
town : in the kitchen they keep in eternal fires, 
ready to heat perpetual soup and bouillon for 
all comers. There is a regular service of re- 
sponsible individuals, who keep watch and watch 
about, and superintend the issuing the supplies. 
Every thing, down to the smallest detail, goes 
by clock-work in an organized routine, and both 
sexes and all ranks are enrolled in the hospital 
corps. The leading citizens take it by turns to 
supervise, and have their allotted hours of duty 
on alternate days. The sick-nurses, male and 
female ; the fatigue-parties of robust Kranlcen- 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAR. 



29 



triiger have their fixed times of sei-vice. The 
surgeons alone seem to have no settled season, 
but hold themselves night and day at the dispo- 
sition of the arrivals. All the local medical 
men who have not left for the front have vol- 
unteered, and they find assistants among stran- 
gers of every nation. Every one about the im- 
mense platform knows his place and his work, 
and keeps himself to the one and the other. 
The orders of the sentries at the doors are to 
deny admittance to all who are not passed by 
the badge of the help-societies. 

It is past midnight, and a train that had been 
telegraphed to arrive two hours before is mov- 
ing slowly in. The assistants have been kick- 
ing their heels for these two unnecessary hours, 
but they have got used to waiting on others, and 
lost the habit of thinking about themselves. 
The thousand beds are turned down in readi- 
ness ; a light is burning on a table by each ; the 
gas is flaming along the rafters overhead. The 
cooks are busy baling bouillon out into basins : 
the inevitable rolls and ham, and the eternal ci- 
gars, stand waiting in piles. The horse-boxes 
begin slowly to disgorge themselves. Men blink- 
ing like bats step out of the dark on to the blaz- 
ing platform. The first-comers are the sound- 
est, suffering from nothing more than such bag- 
atelles as a ball through the foot or a shivered 
arm-bone. They limp up to the nearest bed, 
take a seat on it, and in a second are deep in 
Schinken or Bouillon, pending medical inspec- 
tion. The hospitable citizens exchange a friend- 
ly nod or jest with the convalescents as they busy 
themselves with those who can do nothing to help 
themselves. Then unfolds itself the long chap- 
ter of horrors, written in shockingly sensational 
characters. Men with desperate body-wounds 
visibly sinking under agony, fever, or exhaus- 
tion, are transferred from the straw to the bed ; 
some of them are literally riddled ; others with 
missing limbs or jaws shot clear away, or 
swathed in hideous bandages that fortunately 
leave much to the imagination. It is no use 
dwelling on ghastly details ; it is enough to say 
that men seem to share the intense tenacity of 
life which is popularly supposed to limit itself 
to inferior organizations, and that, after a turn 
through the hospitals, you are inclined to be- 
lieve no wound need necessarily be fatal. The 
Chassepot balls, in particular, have a fiendish 
habit of skipping round the bone they strike, 
tearing and shattering as they go : finally, per- 
haps, glancing off to the body, burying them- 
selves and travelling at large through the per- 
son. 

One man we remarked being operated upon 
for a shot right through the stomach. He had 



his right hand smashed into the bargain. We 
met him swaggering along the platform, later, 
with a true nautical roll, and we saw he had a 
genuine English face. He hailed us cheerfully 
in perfect English. A French subject, he ex- 
plained, born of a French father and English 
mother ; went into the army because he couldn't 
help it, and a rough time he had had of it late- 
ly. The shot in his stomach hadn't gone very 
deep, luckily, or he shouldn't have been here, 
and he thought and hoped his hand would mend. 
He was a thorough Mark Tapley, who would 
have been jolly under any circumstances. We 
English — there were one or two English sur- 
geons interviewing him — bestowed our mites 
upon our philosophical friend, and sent him on 
his way even more cheerful than before. 

It was a strange sight — more picturesque than 
ghastly, for in the uncertain light the details 
merged themselves in the general effect — to look 
down that long gallery. Although there was a 
blaze of gas above and a multitude of candles 
stationary or flitting about below, much of the 
light escaped into the darkness, and yet the 
nearer groups of patients and dressers were 
thrown into Eembrandt-like brightness against 
the surrounding gloom. Prostrate forms writh- 
ing under the friendly hands ; naked torsos 
crimson-patched, fragments chipped out, and 
holes drilled through the shoulders ; riddled 
hands and feet ; careful doctors, wrapped up to 
the throat against the night air; Protestant 
pastors and Catholic priests ; mature matrons 
and pretty young girls — rather out of place these 
last, you could not help feeling. Delicacy has 
its claims even in presence of suffering, and oc- 
casionally, if pity is akin to love, their ej'es 
were eloquent of danger to their hearts. There 
were knots oi sIuvAy Kranhentrager in their blue 
woollen blouses, ready to carry ofl" the wounded 
as they were got ready for their further journey. 
There was marvellously little groaning, and no 
shrieking. The men seemed to make it a point 
of manhood to suppress the audible signs of 
pain, although their bodies and the muscles of 
the face were often shockingly outspoken. 
Where all bore themselves so manfully, it would 
have been impossible for a visitor to award the 
palm of endurance. But I have heard the 
Germans themselves repeatedly avow that the 
French patients supported their sufferings with 
greater resolution ; and if it be so, it must be 
remembered, to their credit, they had defeat 
and the prospect of an indefinite captivity to 
mix in the bitters of their cup. It was suggest- 
ive of the comparative enlightenment of the 
two armies, that many of the French carried 
holy amulets on their persons. When they 



30 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



stripped, you saw little ci'osses carefully hung 
round their necks, and those images of saints 
that are retailed at the French shrines of local 
sanctity. 

Unquestionably the treatment of the French 
wounded has been beyond praise. No distinc- 
tion made between friend and enemy, unless, in- 
deed, it were something more of empressement in 
interpreting the wishes of the poor latter ; and 
charity had its reward in the gratitude with 
which the poor fellows received the attentions 
lavished on them, and the pleasant smiles with 
which they acknowledged them. The coals of 
fire didn't seem to burn, for it was in deference 
to the virtue of military obedience that these 
units of the grand army had fanned the flames 
of the war. If the troops shared the illusions 
of the classes they were largely recruited from, 
and really dreamed the Germans to be savages 
of the same type as the Turcos, how strangely 
pleasant must have been their wakening, when 
they found themselves in the demons' clutches ! 
One felt inclined to hope that these men must 
go home, after the war, to preach peace and 
good-will between the races through the length 
and breadth of France. 

The Rhine flows at the back of the railway- 
station, and Government had chartered sixteen 
of the river steamers, at one hundred and fifty 
thalers a day, for the transport of the wounded. 
One or two of them lay with steam up, awaiting 
the arrival of each of the trains. There was 
an officer on duty to superintend the embarka- 
tion, and a delegate from the Hillfsverein ac- 
companied each vessel on its voyage. Along 
the decks, below the awnings, on the floors of 
the cabins, were laid a double row of comforta- 
ble beds, in which the sufferers were carefully 
deposited. I went on board of one boat entire- 
ly filled with French, some of them scarcely 
touched, and a few unwounded. These last 
were requested to step down the ladder into the 
hold, which they did with many jokes and gri- 
maces. The first-comers monopolized all the 
straw they found, coiling themselves in it like 
field-mice in their nests. Those who came after 
made a razzia in search of supplies, and a free 
fight followed in perfect good-humor, to the 
high delight of the German lookers-on grinning 
over the hatchway. It must be owned the tone 
of the French merriment did more credit to their 
good-humor than their military pride. It was 
odd enough to see the soldiers of France visit- 
ing the coveted Rhine as captives in the hold of 
a peaceful steamer; but it sounded stranger 
still to hear them "chaffing" each other on 
the circumstance. There was one grizzled ser- 
geant of the Imperial Guard, his breast chamarre 



with medals and ribbons, a blazing chronicle of 
all the campaigns of the Second Empire, who 
felt this as strongly as I did. He had been 
taken before Metz, he briefly said ; but he evi- 
dently felt so strongly that we were glad to 
change the subject. " Attendez," he burst out, 
looking fiercely round him ; " Bazaine prendra 
sa revanche, je vous I'assure. Mais moi, je n'y 
serai pas," he added mournfully. 

Before the steamer started. Good Samaritans 
made the tour of the beds as volunteer amanu- 
enses ; and there seemed a very general run on 
their services. Many of the men could not 
write at all; many, naturally, did not cai'e to 
exert themselves in the circumstances. The 
tenor of the notes was generally the same — sad 
enough in their severe simplicity. The mas- 
tering the names and addresses was generally 
the great difficulty. 

The warnings against smoking still hung on 
the cabin doors, and — irony of destiny — every 
cabin passenger had a huge cigar, drawing away 
cheerily like a small blast-furnace. I suspect 
the benevolent promoters of the anti - tobacco 
league must accept their share of the calami- 
toixs results of the war. The progress of the 
good cause is arrested for a generation at least. 
Poison in theory, a cloud of impartial witnesses 
will proclaim that in practice the coarsest prep- 
arations of the weed have been an inestimable 
blessing. After water, the first cry of the man- 
gled has always been for the blessed anodyne 
that soothes their pangs. 

A necessary sequel to a visit to the railway 
hospital is one to the theatre. More strictly 
speaking, indeed, it ought to have claimed prec- 
edence. So far as ordinary performances are 
concerned, there is reldche on the Mayence 
boards pending the conclusion of the bloody 
drama in which all Germkny plays her part. 
Yet I venture to say the Mayence theatre was 
never better worth a visit. It is a large and 
handsome pile of red sandstone, with a semicir- 
cular front, where corridors lighted with deep 
bay-windows run round the amphitheatre, and 
with ample accommodation to the back of the 
stage. Round the sides and in the centre of 
the spacious rooms are piled every manner of 
necessary for the cure of the wounds or the sol- 
ace of the wounded. Blankets, cushions, sheets, 
pillows, shirts, stockings, bundles of bandages, 
air-cushions and water-pillows, splints, sticking- 
plaster, sand-bags for absorbing blood, wooden 
cases for shattered limbs, slings and crutches. 
More bulky matters, such as mattresses or chests 
of lint and medicines, are stored away elsewhere. 
These supplies were partly passed in from the 
country, chiefly manufactured on the spot. In 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



31 



each of the deep -windows round the long corri- 
dors was a table ; round each of the tables sat a 
trio or quartette of young ladies, their fingers 
and tongues and sewing-machines all busily at 
work. Some of them were excessively pretty 
girls ; and even the plain ones were animated 
into an expression something like beauty by 
earnestness and emulation. Of all the towns 
at a distance from the wai-, Mayence has seen 
the most of its miseries, and done the most to 
alleviate them. Already, in the third week of 
August, 18,000 wounded had passed through, 
and yet the tide from the fields by Metz had 
barely set in. Had the balance of the war de- 
clined by a trifle to the other side, the fate of 
Metz might have been that of Mayence ; and 
in their gratitude for the education they had 
been spared at the hands of the civilizing army, 
the citizens seemed to count all their trouble 
and their sacrifices as nothing. 

But, generous as it is, Mayence enjoys no 
monopoly of charity. To see hospital arrange- 
ments as nearly perfect as may be, you may go 
on to Darmstadt. Darmstadt alone can boast 
of six or eight establishments, one or two of 
them specially superintended by members of 
the Grand Ducal family, others by private com- 
mittees, and one by the Catholic Sisters of Char- 
ity. There are 2000 Catholics among the 35,000 
inhabitants. The principal hospital her Royal 
Highness, the Princess Louisa, takes under her 
especial wing. An orangery has been convert- 
ed into the main ward, and stands charmingly 
situated in gardens laid out with flowers and 
shrubberies and fountains. Around it are scat- 
tered a number of succursales, wooden pavilions, 
where the rows of beds stand at ample intervals, 
with canvas doors at the ends, to be looped back 
at will, with openings in the roof, protected 
from the wet, but open to the wind. The 
French, I was given to understand, regard this 
ventilation as a decided disadvantage, and in- 
trench themselves carefully behind their blank- 
ets against every breath of air. The Germans, 
on the contrary, have learned to welcome it as 
the most invaluable of specifics. 

Darmstadt suffered heavily in the war, and 
the Darmstadt division, 10,000 strong, had lost 
1200 in dead and wounded. Naturally, wound- 
ed Hessians are sent to Hesse for choice, and 
it was pleasant to see many old peasant-women 
sitting by the sick-pillows of their own children 
who had been returned on their hands. But 
the greater part of the patients were Prussians 
and North Germans ; and if you doubted as to 
the nationality, you had but to look at the head- 
dress hung by the pillow. Many caps showed 
the tarnished silver of the Prussian Guard, so 



terribly cut up at Gravelotte and Rezonville. 
There were many French shakos, and a sprink- 
ling of turbans. Although regarded en masse 
with the bitterest hatred and loathing, the Tur- 
cos in hospital were treated with the utmost 
gentleness. Their swarthy faces and wiry 
forms would have kept the secrets of their suf- 
fering, had not their eyes betrayed them : you 
saw either the unnatural glare of fever or the 
vacant look of profound prostration. Men said 
at Berlin that these wild beasts snapped at the 
very fingers that tended them. Here they lay 
tame enough ; perhaps their terrible wounds had 
chastened their savage nature. 

Fresh from the scenes at Spicheren and 
Saarbruck, a walk through the Darmstadt hos- 
pital was almost exhilarating. There seemed 
good hope for the worst of the suff'erers, and 
many of them had clearly turned the corner, 
and were steadily on their way up-hill. They 
smoked with placid satisfaction, they read with 
absorbed attention, and journals and novels 
were especially in demand. It is to be regret- 
ted we in England can do so little to supply 
that particular want, for it would be hard to 
overestimate the pleasure that might be convey- 
ed in a box of light literature. But the pleas- 
antest sight of all was the way the saddest faces 
would brighten up as the Prihcess Alice stop- 
ped to say a few kind words and ask a question 
or two — not mere questions of course. Inde- 
fatigable in her attendance, she keeps herself 
personally informed of each serious case, and 
from day to day anxiously watches the progress 
of her patients. Indeed, they owe her far more 
than the kindness and generosity which is nearly 
universal in Germany. Long before this war 
broke out, her care had organized a corps of ed- 
ucated nurses ; and when the sanguinary battles 
created an exceptional demand for their serv- 
ices, she had a cadre of skilled attendants, 
which expanded immediately into an efiicient 
force. The Alice-Frauenverein has been ren- 
dering invaluable services ; and it is no won- 
der that, in spite of great local liberality, its 
funds should be well-nigh drained. The char- 
itable who desire to make sure that their con- 
tributions will be promptly expended to the best 
advantage, and impartially distributed between 
the wounded of the two nations, can scarcely do 
better than intrust them to the committee of 
the Alice-Frauenverein. They will have the 
satisfaction of knowing every thing is done un- 
der the personal superintendence of an Eng- 
lishwoman, for her Royal Highness has given 
up to the work a suite of her own apartments in 
the Palace, and lets no day pass without a long 
visit to the hospital. 



32 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAR. 



CHAPTEE VIII. 

GERMANY AND THE WAR. 

Had you gone home after interviewing the 
first intelligent German you met on crossing 
the frontier, the chances are you would have 
carried back as fair an idea of the national sen- 
timent as could have been gained by any 
amount of travel. The feeling of the country 
seemed to be organized like its military force ; 
to move as harmoniously in obedience to fixed 
general laws, modified by passing events. The 
outburst of patriotism evoked by wanton ag- 
gression had levelled internal barriers, swallow- 
ed difference of political opinion. North Ger- 
mans and South Germans, Liberals and Reac- 
tionists, spoke in the same sense and on the one 
all-engrossing subject. If they wasted a word 
on state or party politics, it was only to say 
their day had gone by; and for the moment 
every one appeared honestly to believe it. It 
would have been something like treason to talk 
of party in the presence of passing events ; fac- 
tion collapsed before the majesty of German 
unity. Prussia had been conquered with France, 
and absorbed in new-born Germany ; and the 
only trace of lingering jealousy among the Con- 
federates was a national susceptibility as to the 
use of the word " German "%nd the abuse of 
the word "Prussian." It was a German quar- 
rel, and German victories won by German 
troops under German leaders. The nation 
had awakened to the full consciousness of its 
strength, to a profound conviction of where its 
strength lay. The Germans knew that it was 
their union made that strength — that it was the 
organization they owed to Prussia that assured 
their triumph. Brought face to face with the 
horrid realities of war, Prussian Liberals were 
sincerely, if silently, grateful for those high- 
handed war measures of the King and his min- 
ister they had opposed so long and denounced 
so bitterly. Hanover and Hesse more than for- 
gave the violence done their independence, when 
they recognized they had become powers, in- 
stead of phantoms and anachronisms. Ham- 
burg, in her new character of a Prussian town, 
had the best guaranty for a speedy termination 
of her blockade ; and Frankfort, in her grati- 
tude for being saved a French occupation, be- 
came more demonstratively national than Berlin 
itself. The most marked feelings of people to 
the south of the Main were an almost morbid 
anxiety to bear their full share in this German 
struggle, and a strong impression that more in- 
timate union with their Northern brethren would 
be the best reward they could ask for their serv- 
ices. Possibly, that latter feeling may some 



day create embarrassments between the Em- 
peror of Gei'many and his loyal allies of the 
Southern Courts. You met men from all these 
states and towns, and you had opportunities of 
hearing the opinions of every rank. One day 
you were seated in third-class carriages with 
peasants, or in open horse-boxes with privates ; 
another, you were travelling first and second 
class with officers and men of cultivation. You 
listened to the talk of vociferous groups in the 
village inns where you occasionally slept ; in 
the hotels of the town ; in the cafe's and beer- 
houses. Your introductions helped you to the 
acquaintance of influential civilians and offi- 
cers in high command, who were all ready to 
speak out. And from all of them you heard 
practically the same thing — expressed with va- 
rious degrees of force and intelligence — that 
Germany had become a nation at last, and you 
grew more persuaded of it at every turn. When 
you went into the hospitals, and witnessed the 
home-like cares lavished on her maimed and 
crippled children, you confessed there was a 
family as well. After the events of 1866, im- 
partial lookers-on were persuaded that the con- 
summation was merely a question of time, only 
to be retarded by French inaction and acquies- 
cence. It is a mystery we may never solve, 
how the Emperor of the French should have 
been so fatally misinformed as to the feelings 
of the people who were to decide his destiny. 
Yet we may be sure that the Germans them- 
selves had hardly fathomed the profound na- 
tional enthusiasm his declaration of war would 
evoke. 

If few Germans doubted of the final issue of 
the war, fewer still had any conception of the 
course it would run. The French had a pro- 
fessional army, presumably in the highest state 
of efficiency, and practically on a perpetual war 
footing. The Germans had only the cadres of 
an army of resistance, to be swelled by the em- 
bodiment of citizens into a force capable of as- 
suming the offensive. The French admittedly 
had long been mapping out the campaign they 
were resolved upon, and, with the advantage of 
the initiative, could follow the plans they must 
have traced in every detail. The German mili- 
tary chiefs were, no doubt, equally persuaded 
the struggle was inevitable ; but the French 
having that superiority of the initiative, they 
were necessarily constrained to follow suite in- 
stead of leading off the game. No sensible 
German — Moltke and Von Roon least of all, 
as I have said before — expected any thing bet- 
ter than a French advance on the Rhine. The 
immense success of Die Wacht am Rhein ex- 
plained the national idea on the outbreak of 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAE. 



33 



hostilities. They had to deal with a terribly 
formidable power, which had been husbanding 
its resources while they had been expending 
theirs in intestine war, which had exhausted 
the resources of science in the perfecting of its 
arms and the invention of strangely destructive 
engines. No man — no ordinary man at least — 



the movements of the French, and less of those 
of the Germans. Men heard of French march- 
ings and counter-marchings — all that was cer- 
tain was that of their mysterious movements 
none took the shape of the expected advance. 
Meanwhile, Germany was mobilizing with a ce- 
lerity absolutely astounding to any but the ini- 




NAPOLEON III., EMPEKOE OP FEANOE. 



ventured to dream of any more happy result 
than that Germany should come out of the war 
with territory intact. 

When war was declared, the war-clouds still 
hung lowering on the frontier, and the Emperor 
lingered on at St. Cloud. Little was known of 
3 



tiated; that ought to have been appalling to 
her enemies. Von Moltke lay smoking a cigar 
on the sofa in his cabinet when his aid-de-camp 
brought him the news of the declaration of war. 
" So soon," the general remarked, quietly. 
' ' I had hardly looked for it for a day or two. 



34 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



Just have the goodness to open that drawer." 
Within an hour the necessary orders were fly- 
ing to the military authorities in all parts of 
Germany. Had the Emperor only known, and 
how could he have helped knowing, how each 
day that slipped through his fingers was lessen- 
ing his chances, he must surely have waived 
every consideration, and struck while Germany 
was still getting into her harness. One is 
driven to the dilemma that either his faculties 
or his military arrangements were hopelessly 
paralyzed for the time. He either lost head 
and heart after the terrible leap he made up 
his mind to, or he took that leap in sheer des- 
peration, and staked the fortunes of the dynas- 
ty and of France on a game practically decided 
in advance. When he did determine to strike, 
Germany was on guard and anticipated him, 
and the Germans were agreeably startled by the 
victories of Forbach and Weissenburg, and the 
simultaneous advance of their armies. 

As the real state of matters dawned on them, 
a marked change came over their minds. 
They began to entertain a hope of not only tid- 
ing over the peril, but of securing themselves 
eifectually against its recurrence. United Ger- 
many would not only treat with France over 
drawn battle-fields as equal to equal, but might 
impose her own terms, and exact material guaran- 
ties against future outrage. It was after Weissen- 
burg and Forbach that the German mind first 
evolved the idea of the appropriation of French 
territory for the better security of the Father- 
land. That rectification of frontier which had 
been so much in favor at the Tuilleries gradual- 
ly grew into a rooted German idea. There 
was no expression of the vce victis in it. There 
was no wish to humiliate France, much as they 
resented an attack they had only provoked by 
ari-anging their domestic affairs after their own 
fashion. The nation was not intoxicated by 
the flush of its startling successes, gi'eatly as it 
gloried in them. But it talked of the suggest- 
ed rectification of frontier as simple matter of 
duty — duty to itself and to its children. " We 
have been forced into a most unholy duel, and, 
though we are likely to come off the victors, we 
must twine the cypress with the laurel. We 
are bleeding at every pore, for our blood has 
flowed as freely as our treasure, and our com- 
mercial life is at a standstill. Not a household 
but mourns a member, a relation, or a friend. 
From quiet streets, from busy workshops, from 
peaceful homesteads, they have drawn our best 
bone and sinew to make targets for their Chasse- 
pots and mitrailleuses. Contrary to all expec- 
tation, the battle has not been to the swift, and, 
to our surprise, we learn that we are the strong. 



Would it not he wanton folly, would it not be 
positive crime, to content ourselves with the 
barren glory of our triumph — to accept a mere 
payment in gold for our blood and material loss- 
es ; to trust the future of our country, and the lives 
and property of coming generations, to the grati- 
tude of the sensitive people we have humbled ? 
Doing so, we should make ourselves accomplices 
in the future excesses of French military mad- 
ness. It is very well that neutrals should inter- 
pose with high-sounding phrases, and talk of gen- 
erosity to the vanquished. What did neutrals 
to prevent the war, and how can neutrals sound 
the depths of our suffering ? In the interests of 
France, as in those of Germany, we are bound 
to put pressure on the French to keep the peace, 
and assure the inviolability of our frontiers by 
demonstrating the insanity of attempting them. 
For years to come, France will never forgive us 
her defeat, nor resign herself to abdicating the 
position she believes her own by right of pre- 
scription. We greatly prefer to make the per- 
manence of peace not a question of sentiment 
but matter of necessity." 

It was the language of a practical nation be- 
come unexpectedly the masters of a critical sit- 
uation, thanks to their own energy and sacri- 
fices ; and it was all so logical, there was little 
to urge in answer. They had just welded them- 
selves into a great people in blood and fire, and 
who could blame them if they were resolved the 
work should be lasting ? After all, if you meas- 
ured it by the avowed designs of their enemy, 
theirs was the language of moderation. France 
had gone to war for the Rhine, and assuredly, 
had her successes been as crushing as those of 
Germany, she would not have contented herself 
with making it the boundary. All Germany 
asked for was a defensive frontier. She did 
not care to annex Alsace and Lorraine as prov- 
inces. On the contrary, she wanted no more 
subjects than she could help of French speech 
or with French sympathies. What she in- 
clined to have was the Vosges, and that other 
formidable line of positions in the department 
of the Moselle her armies had just forced, the 
wooded heights that command, like so many 
bastions, the plains that stretch to Chalons and 
Paris. Metz she would include, of course, and 
Thionville ; and Strasbourg would be carried 
miles back into Germany. As for the appro- 
priation being a standing provocation to France, 
the universal feeling seemed to be that French 
animosity could not possibly be imbittered. 
Moreover, they talked of taking a hint from the 
proceedings of the great Napoleon, and setting 
a limit to French standing armies. In fact, if 
the popular feeling continues to set as strong 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



35 



and unanimously as it did then, concurring as 
it did so strongly with arguments of policy, it 
is hard to believe the most powerful minister 
could stem it. Bismarck is strong as embody- 
ing the sentiment of the country ; but the Ger- 
mans do not skip to their conclusions; they 
reason them out. That a position has once 
been deliberately taken up, is in itself a strong 
reason for continuing to occupy it, even should 
circumstances alter slightly ; and it is possible 
that the tenacity of purpose which has done 
such good service in war may become a serious 
embarrassment in arranging a peace. The de- 
termination of Paris, or the approach of winter, 
may weigh with the German leaders in abating 
something of their demands, even at the cost 
of the increased probability of a future war. If 
they can carry the Germans with them, and in- 
duce them to reconsider their unanimous deter- 
mination, it will be the most marvellous instance 
on record of national sagacity and self-control, 
and France and every other power in Europe 
may resign themselves with a good grace to sub- 
ordinate places for the future. 

One thing I believe to be certain enough. If 
the nation does hold to its resolution to annex, 
it will be Von Moltke, and not Von Bismarck, 
who will decide. The line of the new frontier 
will be governed by purely strategical consider- 
ations, tempered in places, perhaps, by the ori- 
gin and speech of the inhabitants. Nothing 
has done more to contribute to the success of 
the war than the excellent understanding be- 
tween the premier, the strategist, and the min- 
ister-at-war. Bismarck is continually in the 
habit of throwing down half-read semi-political 
dispatches he opens: "That is the business of 
General Moltke — not mine." Should the day 
come when it will be a question of boundaries, 
Bismarck will hand the map over to Moltke, 
and tell him to trace them. 

With regard to the feelings of the inhabitants 
of this "debatable land," there is room for 
some divergence of opinion. From what I saw 
myself in the department of the Upper Moselle, 
I can not believe there would be any great dif- 
ficulty there, at least in the country and small- 
er towns. At Thionville and Metz, undoubted- 
ly, the inhabitants are thoroughly French. So 
they are in Strasbourg; but, after all, of what 
political consequence are the sentiments of the 
handful of people who live among the guns of 
a first-class fortress ? With regard to Alsace 
generally there can be as little question, I sup- 
pose. At least, the Germans themselves admit 
that at present it is thoroughly French at heart. 
But then, they say, the lower and middle class- 
es ai'e as German in their habits and ways of 



thought as they are in speech. German aflSni- 
ties would prove irresistible with a new genera- 
tion. At present it is the Catholic clergy, the 
Jesuits especially, who control the situation 
there. They excite the fanaticism of a pious, 
or, rather, a superstitious, population against 
Protestant Germany ; they nourish the popular 
prejudice by a system of the most unscrupulous 
deceit, when ignorance interests itself so far as 
to ask questions. Educate and enlighten these 
people, say the Germans, and they will be as 
good Germans as any of us. Moreover, in Al- 
sace, as elsewhere, French fiilsehoods have played 
the German game. Everywhere the French 
represented the invaders as savages, compared 
to whom the Zouaves were philanthropists and 
the Turcos saints. Everywhere the occupation 
undeceived the people, and the reaction follow- 
ing the dissipation of the delusion disposed 
them, to a certain extent, in favor of the enemy. 
Occupied territory must help to support the 
war, and doubtless the contributions have fall- 
en heavily on the impoverished inhabitants. 
But any thing like license is sternly repressed, 
not only by order of the authorities, but by the 
sentiment in the ranks. The stories of houses 
pillaged by the Germans of any thing but food 
or wine, of outraged women, and of kindred 
atrocities, read simply incredible to any one 
who has lived with the German troops. Even 
the average French peasant, it may be assumed, 
will be much inclined to visit on the late Gov- 
ernment any thing he suifers at the hands of 
his present guests. 

The more one heard and saw, the more, I 
repeat, one marvelled at the infatuation which 
drove the Emperor to stake the questionable tri- 
umph of the plebiscitum on a game so desperate 
as a German war. His envoys seem to have been 
chosen as men likely to speak smooth things and 
prophesy deceit. They discussed German mat- 
ters with Franco-Germans, who boasted a smat- 
tering of French, who did their very best to 
make things pleasant, and stretch their scanty 
language to express their interested ideas ; or 
they listened to feather-brained adventurers who 
had a personal purpose to serve. One is as- 
tonished, I I'epeat, at the infatuation of the Em- 
pire — the Empire that professed itself the cham- 
pion of nationalities everywhere — in allying it- 
self to effete courts, and staking success on ex- 
ploded hereditai'y traditions. Even in South 
Germany, its court allies were much more than 
doubtful. The King of Bavaria is German, as 
it proved; so is the Grand Duke of Baden. 
The King of Wiirtemberg had French leanings 
he was at little pains to hide. But in Wiirtem- 
berg the popular feeling was so unmistakable, 



36 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAR. 



that it was clear to any one who could read the 
signs of the times, it must carry all before it. 
The same might be said of Hesse Darmstadt ; 
although there the Protestant premier, Dalvick, 
was French enough. Then there were some 
Southern journals of very limited circulation to 
which the Emperor's wishes may possibly have 
attributed an influence they never exercised. 
But the only allies whose sympathy the French 
could count upon confidently were a small mi- 
nority of the nobility, and the bulk of the Cath- 
olic clergy ; and these found themselves muzzled 
and fettered as soon as the war broke out, and 
Germany was roused in earnest. The bishop 
of Mayence is credited with still laboring hard 
against the national cause : men say he bribes 
high, and in high places. But what can a sin- 
gle man do, however able ? 

It is a national war ; and, in time of war 
and danger, aristocratic Germany is a pure 
democracy, without democratic weaknesses and 
vices. Princes and long-descended nobles, heirs 
of great merchants, and wealthy bankers, shop- 
keepers, mechanics, peasants, are side by side 
in the ranks. The ministers have sent eleven 
sons to the field : Bismarck two. Von Moltke 
two, Von Roon four; several have been wound- 
ed, and already more than one of them have 
fallen. The recollection of common sacrifices 
will survive the commoii success, and local poli- 
ticians have already forgotten their paltry squab- 
bles in anticipating a political millennium. It 
is to be hoped that doubtful blessing may be 
spared them ; but in any case Germany has 
. attained constitutional development, while her 
French enemies have been playing at it. Ger- 
many knows her mind at last, and the day of 
Bunds and Diets, petty Princelets, and state 
jealousies is gone forever. Whatever his place 
in Fi-ench history, Napoleon III. has won him- 
self an immortal title to her gratitude. 



CHAPTER IX. 

WITH TROOPS TOWARDS THE FRONT. 

Even in the way of novelty, it is no pleasant 
sensation for the ordinary tourist to find himself 
waiting marching orders — to surrender his in- 
dividuality, and resign himself to be the unit of 
a mass whose movements he is helpless to in- 
fluence. The present moment may be your 
own, but you don't dare to dispose of the next 
one. The route may come at any moment ; 
and if you have given yourself the briefest leave 
of absence, you may find the chance you count- 
ed on has slipped through your fingers. At 



last an orderly turned up late one evening at 
the hotel to intimate an early start, and next 
morning I awakened with the dawn to the tread 
of martial feet and the crash of military music. 
In vain I strove to ignore the one and the 
other as I turned with the affectation of resolu- 
tion on my pillow. But it was no use ; and 
one had only to make a merit of necessity, and 
get up to witness an enthusiasm you felt to be 
most unseasonable. A column of Hessians, the 
dark gray background of military great-coats 
picked out by the flash of bayonets and the re- 
flection of tin pans, was crossing the grand 
place ; discipline had relaxed for the time being, 
and the ranks had opened to receive relatives — 
fathers and mothers, brothers, and even sweet- 
hearts. It was the Darmstadt reserves on their 
way to the front. Who could say how many or 
how few might return ? 

Four hours later the railway-station was a 
busy scene. Two thousand warriors had pack- 
ed themselves away in the wagons, and a mixed 
multitude of at least twice as many men, wom- 
en, and children had gathered to see them oflt^. 
Those who could not find access to the plat- 
form were crowding round the rails outside, 
venting their excitement by cheering vehemently 
at intervals. Of course the sublime and pathetic 
rubbed shoulders with the trivial and ludicrous 
at every turn. There were many bitter leave- 
takings, and doubtless a good deal of silent 
heart-breaking ; every now and then you caught 
a passing cloud of ineffable wretchedness on a 
face that the moment before and after pretended 
to be wreathed in smiles. On the side of the 
civilians at least, much of the hilarity was as 
forced as with most of the soldiers it was genu- 
ine. These last were young men for the most 
part, many of them volunteers. Even with 
those who reflected that their merry start 
might land them on a Gravelotte or a Rezon- 
ville, in a graveyard or a hospital, the enthusi- 
asm of the moment was contagious. The 
Wackt am Mkein and kindred patriotic chants 
alternated with wild bursts of cheering; the 
doors of the horse-boxes were blocked with wav- 
ing arms and laughing faces. Amidst the mar- 
tial excitement and the fond farewells, individu- 
als, like well-trained soldiers as they were, looked 
carefully after the commissariat arrangements 
when they got a chance. Next to hugs and 
kisses, among the most popular souvenirs were 
sausages and cigars. Some lucky campaigners, 
whose circle of acquaintance was extensive, 
stuffed not only their own pockets but those of 
their comrades. 

At last the train glided slowly out of the sta- 
tion, not very much after time— some sixty car- 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



37 



riages. Our quarters were luxurious — a double 
second-class compartment ; and our party a very 
pleasant one. It consisted of the officers in 
charge of the troops, and two or three noblemen 
and gentlemen going forward to attach them- 
selves to the Darmstadt Sanitdtscorps. Slowly 
we descended the course of the Rhine to May- 
ence, where we halted just long enough for a 
hurried chat with some Mayence friends on the 
platform, and to lay in French and English 
journals. It was always a godsend happening 
upon a " Figaro," and that pleasant journal had 
an immense circulation and an astounding suc- 
cess in Germany. What a libel it is to say the 
Gei'mans have no sense of humor, or are in- 
capable of entering into the spirit of a joke ! 
How they used to welcome the latest bulletins 
from Pai'is ; how they used to chuckle over the 
French articles on the military situation. The 
letters of " Our own Correspondent" from be- 
fore Metz read inimitably to men who had assist- 
ed in person at the battles and witnessed the re- 
sults ! Perhaps M. Villemessant occasionally 
went a shade too far, and in his appreciation of 
the attitude and probable action of the neutral 
powers comedy not unfrequently degenerated 
into farce. To be sure, in those days his paper 
was scarcely all that events have made it since : 
then he was still the obsequious trumpeter of 
the Empire to which he owed his existence ; 
since that he has been dancing over its ruins, 
and branding its excesses and vices, most queer- 
ly travestied en Cato. 

We- saw the very last of the day as we wait- 
ed at Neustadt, the picturesque capital of the 
Haardt. The station was crowded, and the 
previous arrivals had made a clear sweep of the 
refreshment counters. Fancy prices, however, 
tempted to the light some flasks of capital Nier- 
steiner, which helped to lend wings to the 
heavy hours. Military law kept the soldiers 
penned in their hutches, and our sympathies 
found pleasant vent in paying trays of beer 
and packets of cigars for the lucky ones in the 
carriages nearest our own. You had to exer- 
cise a certain discretion in distributing your 
largesse, for you were just as likely as not to 
find a gentleman volunteer under the coarse uni- 
form of the private — a man whose social posi- 
tion and means might very likely be superior to 
those of his commanding officer. One individ- 
ual I was presented to had just given up a lu- 
crative situation in Liverpool, to hasten over to 
beg for a place in the ranks. Of course he dis- 
cussed the probable current of events, Moltke's 
strategy and Bismarck's schemes, with extreme 
intelligence, and a thorough appreciation of 
contemporary politics. Next morning I greet- 



ed him as he sat in his horse-box by the horse he 
had just groomed, disposing of a more than fru- 
gal breakfast, in company of a couple of comrades 
of the most ordinary type. An hour or two 
afterwards his captain brought me a "Times" 
I had lent him, with a courteous message. Oif 
duty, such men tacitly claim absolute equality 
with their officers, and the claim is admitted. 
Falling back into the ranks, they relapse at the 
word of command into the submissive soldier. 

It was well-nigh midnight when we dragged 
up to the station of Kaiserslautern. The sol- 
diers by that time must have been rather 
cramped and exceedingly sharp-set, for all day 
long they had scarcely got out of the carriages, 
and had very much depended for their meals 
on their pei-sonal supplies. At Kaiserslautern 
there was a general sortie, and, thanks to the 
hour, we had the platform pretty much to our- 
selves. Those of us who were free agents hap- 
pened upon a tolerable supper in the Railway 
Inn hard by : capital soup, r&lihraten — the for- 
ests of the Haardt swarm with roe — and beer. 
When we had disposed of our meal, we found 
the soldiers getting through theirs by squads 
and companies. The platform was blazing 
with torches, a goods-shed had been fitted up as 
a refreshment-room, and vast caldrons were bub- 
bling over fires in a field-kitchen behind. The 
shed was fitted with benches and tables, that 
might accommodate a party of a hundred and 
fifty at a time. The men, of course, brought 
their own dishes ; the soup and beef were la- 
dled out to them, and, with bread and beer, 
they were far from badly off. 

We woke up in the early morning to find our- 
selves in the station of Neunkirchen. So far, 
for a military train, our progress had been satis- 
factory ; we had only spent some twenty hours 
on the road. But at Neunkirchen we began to 
be fairly broken to the military virtue of pa- 
tience. There the lines converge, and we had 
got well into the ruck of the advance. There was 
one trainful of Landwehr from Minden ; there 
was another of a regiment of cuirassiers from 
Stettin, and some squadrons of lancers ; there 
was a promiscuous mob of military travellers 
unattached. The refreshment-rooms, where, a 
week before, I had made a comfortable meal, 
were subjected to all the horrors of military oc- 
cupation. Sausages were at famine prices ; the 
negotiating a slice of bread was matter of di- 
plomacy and favor ; and when you fought your 
way to a cup of coffee you found the sugar 
had been left out, while the supply had evident- 
ly been watered to meet the demand. The 
cognac had been drained dry, and so had the 
Kirschwasser. The only stimulant available 



38 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAE. 



was arrack ; and if the virtues of a tonic are in 
the inverse ratio to its flavor, the merit of that 
arrack as a stimulant ought to have been unde- 
niable. There were inns in the town, but you 
dare not stray to them ; for, although we actu- 
ally lingered in Neunkirchen for hours, no man 
could tell when the bugles might sound the de- 
parture. The commanding ofiicer was no more 
in the secret than the rest of us : he was at the 
orders of the railway oiBcials. 

To be sure, objects of interest were not want- 
ing to kill the time. We could pass the cui- 
rassiers under inspection, with their white pad- 
ded jackets, their jack-boots, carbines, and sa- 
bres ; and the lancers — those terrible Uhlans — 
their long lances resting in the stirrups, and 
fitted with a pleasantly-devised nail, apparently 
intended to give a good hold in the flesh of the 
victim skewered. We could criticise their 
horses, which, serviceable as they looked, with 
plenty of bone and some blood, were decidedly 
unembarrassed by any superfluity of flesh. In 
a meadow between the woods and the rail was 
a drove of cattle trained even finer. Apparent- 
ly they had been there for some time, for the 
herdsmen had made themselves at home in tem- 
porary huts. The morale of the herd was utter- 
ly gone : recumbent in the sloppy pasture, or 
plashing listlessly about, they seemed scarcely 
to care to chew the washy cud ; they had lost 
all spirit, and were fast losing flesh. Yet, al- 
though they had thinned pitiably, some of them, 
by sheer weight of bone, were settling down into 
the damp ground ; and if the toughest of them 
did survive to reach the front, it looked as if 
any beef they might deliver there would hardly 
repay the cost of its carriage. At length, after 
more than one false alarm, the exhilarating 
einsteigen resounded along the line, the bugles 
confirmed the word of order, and again we were 
off. This wearisome waiting at Neunkirchen 
was but a faint foretaste of what awaited us 
farther on. 

At Duttweller, a station short of Saarbruck, 
we stop again ; this time in a drenching rain 
that forbids our leaving the carriages, otherwise 
we might have gone on to Saarbruck afoot, trust- 
ing to an indefinitely prolonged delay at that 
crowded junction. Had we done so, our calcu- 
lations would have been deceived. At Saar- 
bruck we had barely time to dive under the 
wheels of the successive rows of carriages that 
cut our train off from the platform, force the 
habitual crowd of soldiers and civilian loungers 
to "accept our files," and bore our way in to 
the refreshment-counter. Thence we carried 
off what bread, wine, and cigars we could se- 
cure, for present refreshment and future use. 



There was great excitement among the Darm- 
stadt officers to see the Spicherenberg. Al- 
though the house-roof the 40th Prussians had 
scrambled up was hid by intervening woods and 
ridges, I could point them out the little clump 
of poplars on the plateau where the battle had 
raged so hot. We wound our way round the 
wooded hills along which the Germans had push- 
ed their columns of attack, and found ourselves 
at last moving parallel to the Forbach road in 
the valley by which I had walked .back from the 
battle-field on my previous visit. The train 
passed close by the works of Steyring, among 
houses pelted with rifle-balls. ' ' Frankreich ? 
nicht wahr?" queried one of the party, as we 
moved quietly up the valley towards Forbach. 
"Friiher Frankreich," was the reply, greeted 
with a burst of approbation ; and naturally the 
appearance of the Douane Fran^aise in the sta- 
tion was the signal for a perfect shower of 
sparkling humor and epigram. One might 
have fancied the sight of the ominous fresh- 
heaped mounds of clay that dotted the fields 
would have been unpleasantly suggestive to sol- 
diers moving steadily, if slowly, towards Metz. 
There are crosses and crosses to be won in war, 
and more men come by those rude wayside 
memorials than by the miniature decorations of 
honor. Our military companions remarked the 
fresh graves with an interest that very quickly 
began to pall. As they passed the last of them, 
they kept their seats and smoked with their backs 
to the windows in placid indifference. After all, 
we are all of us travelling the same way as they, 
although possibly by longer roads, and yet we 
do not sadden ourselves with the appropriate 
" meditations among the tombs " each time we 
pass a church-yard. 

We spent but a few hours at Forbach, and 
then moved on to Cocheren, where we passed a 
very great many. The word '■^Niemand aus- 
steigen^' was passed at flrst. Perhaps the com- 
manding ofBcer was really sanguine enough to 
fancy we might be promptly en route again. 
Gradually, however, as dullness brooded heavier, 
discipline relaxed. The sentries stationed to 
keep their eyes on the carriage-doors turned 
their eyes in the opposite direction. The men 
began slipping out, unreproved, and when they 
once assured themselves that the officers were 
winking at the proceeding, there was a general 
stampede into the fields. These were studded 
with willows and fringed with poplars. The 
waving branches suggested to the idlers that it 
would be the correct thing elaborately to deco- 
rate the train. The few boughs we had brought 
from Darmstadt showed more signs of the jour- 
ney than any of the men did. In a couple of 



ON THE TKAIL OF THE WAR. 



39 



minutes, willow and poplar-trees were esca- 
laded, knives and sword-bayonets at work, 
branches reading and cracking, and tumbling 
all over the meadows. A few minutes more, 
and the horse-boxes had well-nigh disappeared 
in the masses of cool foliage — a modern version 
of Birnam forest coming to Dunsinane. Amidst 
all the shouts and vociferous merriment, there 
was a pathetic little side-scene. Two peasant 
girls were standing by the line looking on — one 
of them thoroughly enjoying the distraction, 
laughing and exchanging jests with the men. 
So was the other, to all appearance : she felt 
bound to laugh when her companion turned to 
her, and to force a grin when the conquering 
heroes deigned her some good-humored " chaif." 
And yet if you looked closer you could see the 
tears starting to her eyes as she gazed wistfully 
after the familiar boughs torn off to deck the 
enemies' triumph. 

It is to be hoped the unwonted excitement 
allayed the appetites the exercise must have 
raised, for there seemed little food of any sort 
going among the men that day, and no regular 
rations. At head-quarters, in our carriage, we 
made a light lunch and a frugal supper of 
bread and sausage, but the staple of our meals 
was tobacco. Towards night there were rows 
of camp-fires blazing merrily along the line ; 
and a great comfort they must have been for 
those who slept in the open air. Being rela- 
tively in as light marching order as the Ger- 
mans, with a thin mackintosh for my sole wrap- 
per, it was only a strong natural tui-n for sleep- 
ing under difficulties that saved me a wakeful 
night. From time to time one did rouse up to 
consciousness in the intense darkness, for there 
were no lights in the carriage, and the night 
was black as pitch. No lights, at least, except 
a fiery point or two, intimating that some of my 
less fortunate friends, notwithstanding all the 
seductions of their warm military cloaks, had 
failed to woo Nature's soft restorer to their em- 
braces, and were soothing their disappointment 
with the popular narcotic. But every one seem- 
ed to make it a point of honor to preserve ab- 
solute stillness, and respect the slumbers ot his 
luckier neighbors ; although the chorus of snores 
in a variety of keys might well have absolved 
him from overstrained scruples. 

The consideration of the authorities moved 
us at earliest dawn round a turn of the line into 
a change of scene, and we found ourselves be- 
fore Bening-Merlebach station. The air was 
chill and damp, but the clouds were breaking 
with the promise of a glorious day — a promise 
which was not belied. We were all rather dull 
and drowsy towards morning ; and when we did 



shake ourselves and turn out of our sleeping- 
chamber, the men were already up and afoot. 
They had certainly little temptation to linger 
in theirs. Already they had kindled the morn- 
ing fires, for which most providently they had 
brought the supplies of fuel ; for although there 
was wood in abundance in the neighborhood, 
all was dripping wet. Small as the fires were, 
with the knots that clustered round them sol- 
emnly making believe at warming themselves, 
they conveyed an infinitely greater idea of the 
picturesque than the comfortable. 

Side by side, and half a stone's throw from the 
station-buildings, were a couple of little auber- 
ges. Both were fairly swamped in the influx 
of wolf-eyed campaigners, who had scented hot 
coffee boiling on the kitchen fires. There was 
no respect of persons, and the only title to 
precedence was the possession of the necessa- 
ry amount of coin. Every thing was paid for 
honorably; and there, as always, the exchange 
of Prussian base metal for French food seemed 
to turn out very much to the disadvantage of 
the invaders. Worse coffee I should imagine 
I had never drunk: even at the rare cafes on 
the Boulevards where it is still to be had in 
perfection, I question if I had ever ■enjoyed 
coffee more. Ambition grew with what it fed 
on. Half an hour before we had never dream- 
ed of a hot beverage ; now we turned our 
thoughts towards cold water and ablutions. It 
was two long days since we had seen the one or 
indulged in the other. It turned out, on in- 
quiry, there was a pump in the back kitchen, 
and no particular run upon it. So we convert- 
ed the front parlor into a dressing-room, and be- 
fore a not very silent assistance, made a toilet 
which only broke down in the matter of towels. 
However, the soldiers took the hint, and speed- 
ily the back-kitchen, where the pump was lo- 
cated, showed like a retiring-room in "Baths 
for the working-classes." The water proved 
salubrious enough both for external and inter- 
nal application. But the landlady assured an 
old German gentleman, one of our party who 
was travelling to the front in search of a dan- 
gerously wounded son, that the French troops 
had poisoned it, with the other wells in the 
place, before abandoning the country. It may 
have been the case, although I should have im- 
agined myself they were in too great haste to 
leave Bening-Merlebach to leave such deadly 
souvenirs. Neatly dressed herself, Avith her 
nice-looking children neatly dressed too, and 
with an exceedingly prepossessing appearance, 
the little landlady moved an animated oasis in 
the midst of all the dirty bustle and confusion, 
and seemed much more likely to speak the truth 



40 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



than to go out of her way to tell a hideous false- 
hood. She told me, whatever their neighbors 
had suffered, personally they had no great rea- 
son to complain. They had submitted to heavy 
requisitions, indeed ; but, on the other hand, as 
I had opportunity of judging, they did a fair 
business with what was spared them, and it was 
a ready-money trade over the counter. Her 
husband had been continued in his post of 
station-master. He might not be an exalted 
patriot of the Brutus type, but when I saw him 
again later, on my return alone, I was only con- 
firmed in my first impression, that he was an 
exceedingly attentive, intelligent host. 



CHAPTER X. 

WAR SUPPOETING ITSELF. 

Even when the sun had shown himself over 
:the woods on the sky-line, every thing, air in- 
cluded, continued damp and chilly in the hol- 
low. ■ As his rays began to fall bright, if not 
warm, the men began to brighten up too ; to 
move their limbs as if they were aids to loco- 
motion instead of dead-weights, and to wriggle 
out of their overcoats like insects casting their 
slough. The rolling these coats v/as character- 
istic. In each instance three men told them- 
selves off for the task, folding them lengthways, 
and compressing them into the tightest possible 
bulk ; then the ends were strapped together, and 
they were slung over the shoulders, as I have 
described before. That was, in fact, the simple 
toilet of all who were not lucky or luxurious 
enough to make their way to the auberge pump. 
But what was worse, so far as appearances or 
preparations went, breakfast was likely to be 
quite as much a matter of form. I came upon 
a single pot, indeed, simmering on one of the 
numerous little fires, and the propi'ietor proudly 
raised the lid, to exhibit a highly appetizing soup 
of beef and carrots. But the solitary exception 
only proved the rule; and, although it was the 
centre of universal attraction, it was clearly im- 
possible some two thousand troops of all arms 
could sustain their stamina on the savor of that 
solitsLYj plat. Our own larder — the nettings of 
the railway-carriage — was still tolerably fur- 
nished out with bread and sausage and wine ; 
and although we husbanded our stores, and were 
rigidly temperate in satisfying our appetites, 
when we ate we felt something like Sybarites 
banqueting ostentatiously in a famine-stricken 
town, or Louis XIV. dining on the terrace of 
Versailles before his starving subjects. Later, 
we more than reconciled ourselves with our con- 



sciences, and shame gave place to envy when we 
chanced to light upon a wagon appropriated to 
some gentlemen of a Sanitatscorps. It was a 
full quarter of a mile ahead, and immediately 
behind the engine. Sleeping, sitting, and din- 
ing-room, it was arranged admirably for its 
treble purpose. A passage in the shape of .t> 
Greek cross was opened among the furniture, 
which consisted of chests and cases filled with 
stores for the sound and the wounded — medi- 
cines, dressings, delicacies, and wines. The 
corners were mattressed and blanketed as beds ; 
some of the boxes were cushioned with wrappers 
as chairs ; others were cupboards, where a varied 
and luxurious commissariat was compressed with 
due regard to economy of space ; others cellarets, 
filled with the choice growths of the Main and 
the Rheingau. A cold turkey and pair of par- 
tridges were in course of dissection, and a deli- 
cate pink ham was blushing modestly in the 
back-ground, as if it felt itself slightly out of 
place. There was the whitest of bread, and, 
absolutely, butter and preserve. Fragrant cof- 
fee was boiling over a spirit-lamp, and some- 
thing savory cooking itself in the mysterious re- 
cesses of a portable kitchen. It must be con- 
fessed these Rhenish gentlemen, like Dickens's 
nurse in the Marshalsea, understood the value 
of supporting themselves for the sake of their 
patients ; and if they could rely on their com- 
missariat arrangements to the end of their sani- 
tary campaign, it was a proof the more of the 
German capacity for organization. It said 
much, too, for the discipline of the hungry sol.- 
diers who went lounging by, that they confined 
themselves to longing and looking. Although 
we had been guilty ourselves of similar injuries 
to humanity in a lesser degree, we felt it would 
have been more truly in accordance with the 
charity they professed had these excellent Samar- 
itans closed the doors of their kitchen and break- 
fast-room before setting about their culinary 
preparations. Doubtless, they had abundance 
of wax-lights in their stores — very likely portable 
gas. We felt and spoke bitterly, because we had 
ample time to inspect their ari'angements and 
appreciate the bouquet of the seductive odors 
from their table. I was presented to the chiefs 
of the party by name, and while inquiring, with 
extreme interest, after their views and destina- 
tion, kept rapidly revolving in my mind with 
what decent amount of hesitation I might make 
myself sure of the inevitable invitation when it 
came. Alas ! my newly-made acquaintances, 
while only too happy to satisfy curiosity as to the 
working of their HuJfsverein in the minutest 
details, absolutely ignored all my more sensual 
cravings — a proof the more of the savoir vivre 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAE. 



41 



which impressed so offensively your eyes and 
nose. For my life, I could not help expressing 
a hope to my military companion, as we con- 
tinued our walk, feeling much like hungry 
wolves scared from the mutton in a sheep-fold, 
that, if the French should so far forget them- 
selves as to fire on the German ambulances, a 
retributive Providence might land a shell among 
the excellent arrangements we had admired. 

The station of Bening-Merlebach is very 
prettily situated. North and south from it you 
look on amphitheatres of green meadows, rising 
rapidly to steep semicircular heights, densely 
crowded with feathering woods. Here, as ev- 
erywhere else, it was of course impossible to 
say when the train might start, but experience 
told us that its next halting-place could not be 
very far off; and, moreover, the pretty forest 
scenery was irresistible. So, having failed to 
persuade any of the civilians of our party to run 
the risk, I determined to chance myself, and 
started for a solitary stroll. The character of 
the country was the same as that we had walk- 
ed through beyond Forbach, only with more 
wood-land and less cultivation ; high rolling 
beech-covers, with here and there a little clear- 
ing, with its solitary farm-house or cottage. 
From the ridges the views were fine, although 
not extensive ; and the rare peasants we met 
were as civil as I always found them. But it 
was the same weary story when you stopped to 
talk — every thing stripped away to feed the 
war. Doubtless a story but too true in the 
spirit, although you could scarcely accept it as 
literal fact ; for most of them had their faces 
set towards the invading column, and carried 
bread, fruit, and potatoes in the basket on their 
heads. It was quite evident they had no sort 
of doubt as to receiving fair value for their 
produce. 

When, after something more than an hour, I 
looked down again upon that invading host, it 
was in the same very open order as I had left it. 
The blue uniforms were dotted all about the 
fields, although the woods were forbidden them ; 
and the spots where they clustered thickest, the 
field-glass showed to be potato-patches. When 
I got down among them, I found breakfast was 
still a dream of the future, although foraging- 
parties of cavalry were out catering for it. At 
that moment, two or three lancers of Ziethen's, 
on their gray horses, in their crimson jackets, 
were emerging from a neighboring glade into 
the full sunshine — a genuine bit from Cuyp. 
Moreover, a detachment of the infantry had 
been told off on a visit to the neighboring village 
— it bears the same name as the station — and 
were already at the work. The chance of see- 



ing how the Germans levied contributions on 
the occupied country was not to be missed, so, 
picking up a friend, we hastened off. The only 
question was whether they would care to have 
strangers as eye-witnesses of what at best must 
be a somewhat revolting process. Inquisitors 
and sworn tormentors, even when they applied 
the question in due form of law, did not court 
the presence of public opinion at the inquiry; 
and, moreover, we saw a couple of sentries os- 
tentatiously posted on the Bening-Merlebach 
road. However, the sentries, made no observa- 
tion whatever beyond an amicable "Morgen;" 
so we had neither to tamper with their military 
virtue nor attempt to turn their flank. Be- 
ning-Merlebach is as pleasant a village as any 
of its neiglibors, and looks as if it ought to be 
prosperous. One long steep street runs from 
the little brook in the valley to the church on 
the hill. At the lower end, the street starts 
from a demi-p^ace, with an auberge to its right, 
and another to its left. Herr Braun is host at 
the one, Herr Gans at the other. Thi-ee Uh- 
lans, cocked carbine in hand, canter up to 
Braun's door, and shout a request for beer in at 
his open windows. As there is no immediate 
response, and, except for those open windows, 
the house gives no sign whatever of life, one of 
the troopers swings himself out of the saddle on 
to the stones with a clash and a rattle. He 
has barely time to toss his bridle to a comrade 
before Braun appears at his window, as by en- 
chantment, in a blue blouse, and a pale harass- 
ed face that engages our sympathy at once. It 
must be owned that warm feeling rather chill- 
ed, when Braun, accompanying his speech with 
much pantomimic energy of negation, assured 
his visitors that he had not a drop of beer him- 
self, but they would doubtless find it in plenty 
with neighbor Gans over the way. Gans, 
who clearly knew by experience which direction 
the dialogue would take, was at his window by 
this time, shouting out vehement contradiction ; 
taking the Blessed Virgin to witness that the — 
something — Prussians — he caught himself up 
rather awkwardly there — had drunk the very 
last drop of his two days before, which was of 
the less consequence, that the gentlemen would 
find all they could possibly want with Braun. 
The Uhlans did not condescend to discuss the 
matter, but proceeded deliberately to business, 
and entered Braun's, whence they emerged, a 
minute or two later, wiping their mustaches 
and carrying an earthenware jar. The subse- 
quent perquisition at Gans's was less satisfac- 
tory, and they drew his premises blank. If he 
had hid his cellar-key successfully, assuredly his 
neighbor Braun could not have been in the se- 



42 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAR. 



cret. Braun's unneighborly conduct, when his 
heart should have been softened and sanctified 
by a community of suffering, came at first with a 
painful shock on the susceptibilities. Second 
thoughts brought more lenient judgment. Till 
you come to experience it yourself, perhaps you 
can hardly realize the demoralizing effect of be- 
ing flayed by shreds and ruined by inches. 

Having assisted at this first act of the tragedy, 
which was being repeated here and hundreds of 
places elsewhere, until further notice, we walk- 
ed up the hill to look out for the next one. 
While three or four of us had been listening to 
Braun's expostulation with the Uhlans, I had 
been rather taken aback by a voice at my el- 
bow, chiming off a rude couplet with more fe- 
licity of application than delicacy of feeling, 
"Herr Braun won't dubb down." I had no 
conception there was an Englishman nearer 
tlian Saarbruck, and the improvisatore looked 
as un-English as he well could. His was the fre- 
quent story. He had been settled for years past 
in Berlin ; had come thence with his father-in- 
law in search of a wounded brother-in-law, sup- 
posed to be lying somewhere near Metz. They 
had got permission at Saarbruck to accompany 
the military train. He seemed by no means 
hopeful of success, and far from sanguine of 
finding the wounded man in life, if they suc- 
ceeded in tracing him out. But the Anglo- 
German's wife desired him to accompany her 
father to look for her brother, and — shrugging 
his shoulders — balancing disagreeables, he pre- 
ferred to risk the journey with all the roughing 
it involved. The worst of these vague expedi- 
tions to the field-hospitals in quest of friends 
was the utter uncertainty of the result. If the 
wound were grave, there was too much chance 
the sufferer might have succumbed before you 
reached him. If less serious than had been tel- 
egraphed, he would probably have been sent off 
to the rear, and if you cared to follow you 
might go off upon a wild-goose-chase, playing 
hide-and-seek with him all over Germany. 

As we got well into the village, we found the 
whole population had turned out to stand at 
their doors, or were thronging towards some cen- 
tre of excitement higher up. Women and chil- 
dren there were in abundance, but of men in 
the vigor of life few or none. Here and there, 
groups of boys and children went dashing after 
small parties of the Darmstadt men, like small 
birds mobbing a hawk. Of course these little 
demonstrations took nothing of an offensive 
form ; and, in fact, with the insouciance of youth, 
the juveniles seemed to eke out the discomfort 
of reduced rations with the pleasant excitement 
of these domiciliary visitations. The people 



looked sour, when they were not stolid, natural- 
ly enough, but there were no hostile demonstra- 
tions even of gesture or speech ; any thing else, 
of course, would have been absurd. The only 
creatures that threatened fight, or vented their 
indignation at the intrusion audibly, were the 
village curs, and these, cowed by the mien and 
weapons of the military, harassed the heels of 
us, the civilian followers of the column. Then 
we met the crier, who seems an institution in 
all these Lotharingian villages, hobbling down 
the middle of the road, swinging his bell and 
calling on his fellow-villagers to bring out their 
bread. The main body of the foragers were 
drawn up in front of the church, and a little 
pile of loaves was gradually growing on the 
pavement before them. " You have seen, I 
hope, that my men go to work as considerately 
as is consistent with their duty," whispered my 
acquaintance, the captain in charge, as I passed 
him. I could say honestly that I had, and yet 
the sight was so sad, that you were forced, in 
self-defense, to treat it jestingly. Poor women 
coming along with their ragged aprons to their 
eyes, under their arm the half-yard of bread that 
ought to have been for the children who clung, 
crying with fright, and perhaps hunger, to their 
skirts ; old men bringing apologies for their 
share — apologies which were doubtless false so 
far as the special ground they were rested on 
went, and which must be sternly rejected. It 
required something like an insane faith in mir- 
acles to look forward to the future without de- 
spair, and the evil for the day was so bitterly 
sufficient, that it was beyond the strength of 
man not to take dismal thought for the morrow. 
The only marvel was, how the constant exac- 
tions — as we were assured they I'ecurred on an 
average every second day — could possibly be re- 
sponded to in any shape. Amidst sighs and 
many tears, the bread-heap on the paving-stones 
kept swelling, until it was clear enough, at least, 
that if famine was prowling in the outskirts, it 
could not yet have actually stalked into the vil- 
lage. 

I strolled up through the church-yard, and 
came upon a Sister of Charity. She was stand- 
ing with one pretty little girl in her hand, an- 
other in her arms, gazing from a distance on 
the picture of the woe I have tried to sketch. 
She shook her head to an address in German, 
but her face cheered a little at the French. 
She had been the village school-mistress in days 
when the children came to school ; but " Bless- 
ed Saviour ! that was an eternity ago now." 
The school-house behind her had its shutters 
up, except for a little room to one side of the 
door. How the village had suffered since then ! 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



43 



how she herself had suffered ! though that was 
little. But would monsieur give himself the 
pain to enter and see the interior of her school ? 
I followed her in, and she took down some of 
the shutters of the gutted rooms, where one or 
two broken benches or desks remained to show 
how they had been furnished ; the rest had clear- 
ly gone for fire-wood ; so had most of the skirt- 
ing-boards, and many of the laths in the walls ; 
not a pane of glass was left unsmashed ; and the 
very frame-work of the windows was knocked 
into splinters. I confess I was doubly grieved. 
It was a pitiful sight at best, and then it disen- 
chanted me of my preconceptions as to the con- 
duct of the Germans. Hitherto I had been hap- 
py to believe that they exercised the harsh rights 
of war as leniently as consisted with orders, and 
all I had witnessed that morning had confirmed 
me in my impressions. "Not the Germans, 
but the Turcos, monsieur," she hastened to ex- 
plain. '"The first Prussians who came here 
were something rough, it is true, but since that 
we have not had much cause to complain of 
them. But these Turcos ! Oh, my God ! to 
dream of launching such savages on a Christian 
land!" 

The men of the village, she told me, had al- 
most all of them left it with the French retreat- 
ing forces, taking their horses with them. They 
feared the one and the other would be impress- 
ed, and forced to take involuntary service. As 
she was talking, a respectable woman in deep 
black came slowly up from the little crowd be- 
fore the church, a picture of hopeless dejection. 
She had just deposited her loaf there, and came 
to reclaim her children — the children the Sister 
had in charge. She was ready enough with her 
woes, and no wonder. Where her husband was 
she did not know, nor her son by a former mar- 
riage. The one had followed the troops. What 
could he do, poor man? — better go with the 
French than the Prussians. The other had been 
drawn for a soldier, and was probably in the gar- 
rison at Metz. When she should see them she 
knew not, or whether she should be able to 
restore her husband his children. If the good 
God did not interfere, she thought, for her part, 
they must starve. And then she broke down 
in an unconti-ollable fit of sobbing, and the Sis- 
ter put down the child to take the mother in 
her arms. Really the dilettante tourist on the 
trail of the war ought to leave his feelings at 
home, or carry the purse of Fortunatus. For, 
after all, starvation is the palpable horror, and 
coarse plaster as they may be, your thalers and 
florins bring speedier relief, and are more elo- 
quent of sympathy than any thing. 

The detachment had done its work, and was 



evacuating the village. The crier had made a 
second promenade, announcing that those who 
wished to be paid must present themselves 
promptly ; and paid they duly were — in some 
form or other. The little column moved down 
the High Street, about every fifth man bearing 
his loaf, until it looked like a martial procession 
who had been celebrating a feast of Ceres. 
Bacchus had notliing to say to it, unless a jar 
or two of beer might be taken for Bacchanalian 
emblems ; and besides these were a couple of 
pails of milk, while one man carried in triumph 
a handful of slices of bacon. The sight we had 
witnessed was pitiable in every way — the mean- 
ness instead of the glory of war. If all the 
peasants had not suffered acutely, it was only 
because use had begun to dull their senses ; 
they had habituated themselves to the cries of 
their famished children, and learned to look on 
a blank future as an accepted fact. Yet they 
had been squeezed with exceptional tenderness, 
and if the proceedings of these good-natured 
Darmstadters may be taken as representative 
ones, never were the inevitable horrors of war 
more softened to the helpless. I saw one sol- 
dier clap a peasant on the back, not in irony, 
but honest sympathy, as he took his loaf from 
him ; and the peasant looked at him, and then 
cordially shook the hand that had robbed him 
of his bread. I saw nothing approaching vio- 
lence, either of action or speech, not even when 
Braun the aubergist flatly denied the existence 
of the beer which was drawn forthwith. I saw 
a pleasant-looking young volunteer, who was 
standing sentry at the entrance of the village, 
giving away cigars that were priceless to him, 
when knapsack space was so valuable. And I 
thought how different things would have been 
had the Turcos been slipped on a peaceful ham- 
let in the Bavarian Palatinate or the Schwartz- 
wald, with unprotected cottages and helpless,, 
women given over to their tender mercies. 

On the way back, we passed a commodious 
farm-steading, standing by the side of the road. 
It had all the outward signs of ease and affluence 
suddenly blighted. Vines clambered on the 
house-front, clustered round the windows, and 
looped and trellised themselves about the porch. 
The little flower-garden was gay with dahlias, 
the kitchen-garden with scarlet-runners, and 
the swallows were skimming the duckless duck- 
pond. There was square upon square of snug- 
ly thatched outbuildings; interminable cow- 
houses and stables, vast barns and spacious 
wagon-sheds. The wagons were there still, but 
the horses were gone, and the cows too, so far 
as we could see. Not a soul visible about the 
place except haggard women. There was & 



44 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAE. 



venerable he-goat, and a half-starved cat, and a 
lean dog sniffing suspiciously at the ample boots 
of the sentry, who remained outside on duty 
while his superior officer passed into the house. 
The officer emerged again immediately, empty- 
handed, and shaking his head. ' ' I shall send 
tlie men round the place for form's sake, he 
said, but — " and an expressive pantomime with 
his fingers finished the sentence. The farm 
looked too comfortable, and was far too con- 
spicuous from the railway-station, not to have 
contributed more than its share in support of 
the occupation. Meantime, and in eccentric 
contrast with this pressure exercised upon house- 
holders, itinerant fruit-sellers were revenging 
the country people on the pockets of the troops. 
It was odd to see the column halted for the sake 
of ransacking the farm and appropriating what 
scanty stores it might contain on arbitrary terms, 
while solitary peasants were busy swindling its 
individual members in the most confident and 
barefaced manner ; selling their sour fruit at 
fancy prices, and regulating the conversion of 
groschen and kreutzers into sous, entirely to 
their own advantage. ■ 



CHAPTEE XI. 

ON THE KOAD TO THE REAR. 

At our rate of progress, yards were lengthen- 
ing out to kilometres and hours to days. In 
point of distance we were not very far from 
Remilly, to which we had the route in the first 
place ; but it was altogether another thing cal- 
culating the time that divided us from it. And 
once at Eemilly, it was still more problematical 
how soOn or how late we might reach the head- 
quarters of Prince Louis's division ; for all we 
knew or heard to the contrary, it might be in 
full march on Paris. We might find ourselves 
condemned to the proverbial tedium of a stern 
chase, and a stern chase in war-time was some- 
thing grave. If I cut myself loose from my 
pleasant military friends, and cast in my lot with 
some of the gentlemen on their way to the field- 
hospital before Metz, or if I laid myself out for 
a tour of the recent battle-fields on my own ac- 
count, I must make up my mind to a sacrifice 
of time I sorely grudged. Gravelotte and Ee- 
zonville, Mars-la-Tour, and Jaumont look near 
enough to each other on the map ; but sad and 
slow experience had taught me how little su- 
perficial considerations like these were to be 
trusted. It would have been interesting, doubt- 
less, to visit these historical scenes ; terribly in- 
teresting to inspect the shambles in their hos- 



pitals ; but, after all, it would be but a more 
sensational repetition of what I had already 
done. The actual war, by all accounts, had 
drifted away to the west, and Bazaine was re- 
posing sullenly among his guns on his doubtful 
laurels. So after long reflections, for which I 
found ample time, I very reluctantly decided to 
fall back on my original ideas, and make out a 
visit to Alsace. I may remark, in passing, that 
letters since received from the companions I left 
gave me every cause to congratulate myself, on 
the whole, on the resolution. 

So, early one morning, I took an affectionate 
farewell of my friends. They were to march 
on from St. Avoid ; I was to march back. I 
can answer for the sincerity of my own regrets. 
To say nothing of turning one's back on much 
you had counted confidently on seeing for days 
past, it was a grievous change for the worse to 
your own company and the companionship of 
your own thoughts. One made friendship so 
fast, penned up together by day and night, in a 
constant chat through the long waking hours ; 
in a perpetual picnic when you played at the 
same privations, and laughed them over to- 
gether. I slung my baggage accordingly, and 
found myself in what I called decidedly heavy 
marching order. As I said, my knapsack had 
been packed with no idea of carrying it person- 
ally, unless in case of necessity, and, since 
then, it had gathered books, and maps, and oth- 
er weighty articles. But now the necessity had 
arisen, and there was nothing to be said. A 
knapsack-bearer is always an insufferable nui- 
sance when he is your sole companion. At 
the best of times, he is a drag on your pace, a 
check on your free-will, and a tax on your pow- 
ers of conversation ; and, moreover, you would 
have been forced to keep a very close eye on 
the movements of any one you were likely to 
pick up on the trail of the war. 

The day was young and beautiful, and, al- 
lowing for all likely detours and delays, the dis- 
tance to Saarbruck easily within compass of fair 
exertion. So, tempted by the scenery, I left 
the rail and struck up among the woods that 
ovei-hung it. Except that it was an agreeable 
walk among woods and fields, delightfully fresh 
to the sight and smell after the heavy rains, 
there was not much to repay one for the in- 
creased labor. From the appearance of their 
gardens and orchards, it seemed clear some of 
the cottages and farms must have escaped mil- 
itary visits ; others, it was equally evident, had 
entertained exacting and mischievous guests — 
fortune of the war. One old lady I stumbled 
on by accident, after forcing a short cut through 
some thick undergrowth. Her cottage was none 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



45 



the less picturesque that it had been dilapidated 
by time, not by violence, and it had withdrawn 
itself coyly from sight among the magnificent 
clump of walnut-trees that inclosed a luxuriant 
patch of vegetable garden, a bit of turf, and a 
quaint old draw-well. What attracted my at- 
tention first was a pear-tree on the gable of the 
cottage, loaded with magnificent fruit, which, 
after a hot walk up and down hill, was irresist- 
ibly tempting. At first the old lady seemed 
much put out at being found at all, was ex- 
tremely curt in her speech, and evidently only 
anxious to get rid of her unlooked-for and sus- 
picious visitor. On exhibiting credentials, how- 
ever, in the shape of some silver, she reassured 
herself rapidly, and her manner softened. She 
brought out a couple of chairs, set them by the 
side of the well, and proceeded to be at all the 
frais of the conversation, for she chattered on 
incessantly in the most execrable of patois. It 
was with difficulty I prevailed on her to inter- 
rupt her talk so far as to go and fetch me some 
of the coveted fruit, but that once done, her 
ideas took a hospitable turn. She made an ex- 
pedition into the cottage, to emerge with a 
lump of very tolerable bread, and a second one 
produced a bottle of not undrinkable wine. 
Finally, with the help of some chocolate of my 
own, which the old lady highly approved, I had 
brought my unhoped-for meal to a close just as 
the master of the house made his appearance. 
I only waited to be presented in form, and ex- 
change the customary compliments of the cam- 
paign, to take to flight ; for he was to the full 
as voluble as his wife, and being even more in- 
differently provided with teeth, was, if possible, 
more unintelligible. We separated, however, 
the best of friends, I carrying away many court- 
eous wishes on the part of the elderly couple 
that we might speedily meet again. 

In a military point of view there was not 
much to repay one on those high grounds, ex- 
cept that you could assure yourself of the ex- 
treme sti-ength of the positions Frossard fell 
back through when knocked out of time by the 
terrible blow Von Goebel struck him at For- 
bach. On one salient bastion — very much of a 
second Spicherenberg, except for its thicker 
cover — and commanding the rail and the ap- 
proaches by the valley, I came on a row of 
rifle - pits, protected, moreover, by the fire of 
a breast-work above them. Clearly they had 
never been held, although a good deal of labor 
and some thought had been expended on en- 
gineering them. Back again upon the rail, and 
dull work it would have been trudging alone 
along the road one had travelled so lately in 
such pleasant company. But now I moved by 



electricity compared to the rate at which I had 
come, and the relative velocity of my march 
was irresistibly exhilarating. Except a stray 
peasant or two, there was not a soul to be met 
between stations, but the stations were lively 
enough, and swarmed with Prussian reserves. 
There was a rush of troops coming up behind 
my Darmstadt comrades. A good many of the 
ofiicers and men stopped me, not officially, but 
with many apologies, to ask whence I came, 
and what news I brought. The presence of a 
man with a civilian knapsack marching the 
wrong way, evidently made a grand sensation, 
and it was humiliating to have to confess you 
had started from anywhere short of the be- 
leaguering force. At Cocheren, I think, one 
friendly officer, in exchange for the contents of 
my very meagre budget, intimated I should find 
some hot boiled beef and carrots going in the 
neighboring hostelry. Although far from hun- 
gry after my recent breakfast, the idea of hot 
meat after several days of cold rations, had a 
fascination of its own, and I turned aside, ac- 
cordingly, in quest of the flesh-pots. If I had 
reason to be grateful to this good - natured 
stranger, it was only because he put me in the 
way of acquiring a new war experience. The 
'meat looked quite tempting enough to overcome 
any distaste one might have felt to burning your 
fingers through a thin sheet of dingy newspaper, 
and then hacking it with your pocket-knife. 
But ah, the toughness of the tissues ! The 
closeness of the texture, with its interwoven sin- 
ew and gristle, was enough to turn the edge of 
the most exquisitely tempered blade. I passed 
it on to a sharp-set Prussian, who was eying it 
hungrily ; and never, I believe, had I felt half 
such genuine sympathy for the hardships of the 
invading forces as at that moment. It is easy 
to conceive turning out after a good night and 
comfortable breakfast to go into action in toler- 
able spirits. It is not quite so easy to imagine 
it in the case of men detaching their numbed 
persons from the ground they have frozen to, 
or dragging them out of the beds of mud they 
have settled down in. But fancy keeping up 
health and spirits for months on fare like that, 
even if you once got over the initial difficulty 
of eating it all. I began, too, to realize the 
practical absurdity of calling the ban and ar- 
riere-ban of a population into the field. Pic- 
ture the serving-men whose teeth were sapped 
by time with new-killed rations hard as that ! 

Outside Forbach, on a high dry plateau be- 
tween the road and the trail, a Prussian regi- 
ment had bivouacked ; at least, one or two of 
its battalions. No chance of catching these 
fellows nap23ing, or surprising them eating their 



iG 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAE. 



soup. Even now, with no armed enemy nearer 
than Metz, you come on the sentries and the 
outposts all duly placed, and all on the alert. 
It was a picturesque scene, with the soldiers 
scattered about laughing, singing, and smok- 
ing ; the camp-fires smoking, and the kettles 
trying to boil ; the arms piled, the officers' 
horses picketed, the baggage-wagons drawn up 
in a circle in the centre of all. 

Forbach was just as I had left it ; if possible, 
rather more crowded ; but on the bare battle- 
field on the Saarbruck side were an immense 
park of artillery, interminable lines of guns, 
and a wilderness of ammunition-carts waiting 
to be forwarded by road or rail. I had had 
quite enough of walking in the way of exercise, 
and looked forward with very moderate pleas- 
ure to retracing the dusty road I had already 
gone over so carefully. But the inn-keeper in 
Forbach had assured me there was not a con- 
veyance of any kind in the neighborhood that 
had not been "required ;" and the provisional 
station-master said there was no chance what- 
ever of an immediate train. However, just as 
I was settling down into my stride, and begin- 
ning to swing away at it mechanically, a merry 
hail came over my shoulder, and a rattle, that 
I had heard approaching from behind, came to 
a sudden stop. It was one of those long, nar- 
row country wagons, the sides and ends con- 
structed of bars widely apart — wagons tolerably 
light in their way, notwithstanding the solid 
wheels and pole. This one was chartered by 
the military authorities, and at present occupied 
by a trio of gunners, who insisted on the weight- 
ed pedestrian taking place with them. Hand- 
some, good-humored fellows they looked ; and 
although apparently very slightly concerned in 
liquor, I did not wait for further pressing. 
One of them insisted on evacuating the snug 
corner to the front where the straw lay thick- 
est. Already they had picked up a German 
cattle-dealer ; immediately afterwards a comely 
peasant-woman was added to our party, who 
became forthwith the object of marked atten- 
tion, and, nothing loath, commenced a three- 
barrelled flirtation. The last addition was a 
very juvenile Prussian officer, in brand-new uni- 
form, whose gloss had been barely rubbed, very 
handsome, not only gentlemanly, but distinguish- 
ed-looking, and evidently desperately ashamed 
of the queer company in which he found him- 
self. But he had outstripped, or in some way 
missed, his battalion, which was then on the 
march from Saarbruck, and was in mortal ap- 
prehension of finding himself in a scrape. He 
shouted earnest inquiries on the subject to every 
passenger he met, and had to content himself 



with most unsatisfactory replies. At last the 
leading files did appear on the ridge before us 
between the poplars, and our young friend hop- 
ped out, and advanced to meet his corps in 
more dignified fashion. It was a I'egiment of 
Landwehr, the old colonel in his spectacles 
looking much as some of our own militia com- 
manders might have done — as if he thought the 
whole thing an immense nuisance, and involv- 
ing a great deal of trouble he had never serious- 
ly bargained for. The men were smart, soldier- 
like fellows, with plenty of substance, of course, 
and a great glitter of Danish and Bohemian med- 
als on their broad chests. Dusty and hilly as it 
was, they were swinging along at a good three- 
and-a-half miles an hour, although inquiries as 
to their distance from Forbach were not unfre- 
quent as we rattled past them. "Direkt aus 
Paris " was the standing chaff of our gunners ; 
and given with a wave of the hand and the ap- 
propriate expression of face of the express who 
shouts great news as he gallops past, it scarcely 
lost by repetition. Each time we laughed just 
as heartily, and it had the invariable effect of 
eliciting a hearty cheer from the military pedes- 
trians. Behind the battalions came the bag- 
gage-carts, the sutlers' wagons, and a couple 
of exceedingly ugly vivandieres in excessively 
showy bloomer costume. And then we passed 
a dozen or so of wagons and wagonettes, and 
carriages in various styles, going to the front. 
On some were painted the numbers of different 
army corps ; others were blazoned with the 
arms of royal or princely houses ; and on the 
banquet boxes of one or two were haughty me- 
nials in livery, looking woefully out of place. 

The worst of my friends was, that their pat- 
riotism would never permit them to pass a 
beer-house without descending to drink to the 
success of their armies, and they invariably in- 
sisted on treating any loungers they might find 
there. It was in vain, for my own part, I at- 
tempted first to decline, and secondly to pay. 
As to the first, their hospitality would not be 
denied, and for the second, the invariable reply 
was, " Nein, nein, wir haben sie eingeladen." 
There was nothing but to resign myself with a 
good grace, distribute the few cigars I fortu- 
nately had left, and pass them the cognac flask 
I had filled at Forbach. Although under the 
combined influences of beer, brandy, and rapid 
motion, their spirits were speedily becoming in- 
controllable ; yet through it all, and with the 
familiarity of " bons camarades " growing fast 
to demonstrative affection, there was nothing 
whatever of vulgarity about them. They were 
gentlemen slightly overtaken under circumstan- 
ces that made inebriety venial, and I question 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



47 



whether any three non-commissioned gunners 
picked at random from Woolwich wpuld have 
come out of the ordeal half so well. 

The old Lotharingian who drove us did not 
appreciate them so much. On starting from 
the second auberge, I had taken my seat be- 
side him, in front ; and, while our military 
friends behind were loud in a patriotic chorus, 
■we got into conversation in an under-key. The 
French had robbed him of one of his two horses 
while camping out on the Spicheren, before the 
affair of Saarbruck, giving him in exchange a 
lame one of their own, one of the pair he was 
now driving. Out of condition it was, and a 
little galled in the back, but otherwise his lost 
horse must have been a good one, if he had much 
reason to complain of the exchange. He assist- 
ed at the battle from the neighboring heights 
until he came down to help the wounded, and 
he dashed off a dramatic and perhaps slightly 
imaginative picture of it. He gave telling im- 
itations of the roar of the various engines of war 
down from the field-guns and mitrailleuses, dis- 
tinguishing carefully between the whiz of the 
Chassepot ball and that from the Nadelgewehr 
when he got among the small arms. After the 
action the Germans had pressed him and his 
team. At first he had been hard at work haul- 
ing and burying dead horses ; now he was gen- 
erally kept plying on the road between Forbach 
and Saarbruck with freights like liis present 
one. They paid him now and then in specie, 
generally in paper — alluding to which last, he 
shrugged his shoulders expressively. Thus we 
got gradually on so confidential a footing that 
our heads were continually jolting together 
when the wheels caught in the ruts ; and final- 
ly he volunteered that bit of paternal advice 
about not getting too intimate with my new- 
made friends, '^Bose Letite," he whispered, with 
a wink pregnant of meaning and warning ; and 
the next moment he had turned obsequiously to 
laugh at some jest they deigned to address him. 
It was all very natural. Of course hypocrisy is 
the refuge of the helpless, and both the peas- 
ants of Lorraine and the German gunners, al- 
though admirable people in their several ways, 
had been brought by the times into radically 
false relations. When Germany appropriates a 
strip of the province, they will learn to under- 
stand each other better. For myself, I parted 
from both with very pleasant recollections ; 
when thanking my gunners for their "lift," I 
resisted their importunities to accompany them 
through a course of the beer-houses of Saar- 
bruck. 



CHAPTER XIL 

WEISSENBURG AND WOERTH. 

No quarters to be had in Saarbruck, and no 
time for dinner, for a train was just starting for 
Neunkirchen and somewhere beyond. I had 
established myself in the corner of an open 
truck — the train was composed of nothing but 
trucks and close horse-boxes — when a friendly 
official, with whom I had renewed an acquaint- 
ance commenced on a previous visit, came to 
offer me a place in a carriage that was going to 
be hooked on. I found the carriage occupied 
by three officers, all fresh from Metz. One of 
them was a major of the Baden army, unwound- 
ed, and on his way to Mannheim on militai'y 
business. The others were wounded, both of 
them ; and one, who had been shot in the jaw, 
was suffering terribly to boot from violent rheu- 
matism in the head, caught from bivouacking 
in the open. He had had no sort of cover, and 
for days in succession, he said, had woke to find 
himself swamped in a pool and chilled to the 
marrow. The others found all his dismal ex- 
periences perfectly natural, although they had 
been somewhat more fortunate themselves. The 
Baden major had not got out of his clothes for 
a fortnight, and during all that time had seen 
next to nothing of water, except in the shape 
of rain : in that form he had had more than 
enough ; but he seemed cast in iron, and all 
the better for the exposure, which was a good 
deal more than you could say for his clothes. 
We were all of us hungry, and we clubbed our 
scanty means for a dinner. Tiie major pro- 
duced a bottle of capital sheny, shoved into 
his hands on the platform by some German 
Samaritan, an utter stranger. For my share I 
could contribute a corkscrew and a cake of 
patent chocolate — chocolate fortified Avith meat 
extract, and warranted remarkably nourishing. 
One of the invalids had a loaf of bread, and the 
other a basket of gi-een-gages. Our journey was 
the old story ; a snail's pace and perpetual stop- 
pages, and it was past midnight before we ar- 
rived at Neunkirchen. The train went on to 
Bingen, and the Badener and I, who were to 
change for the southern lines, were not alto- 
gether sorry to find there was no means of get- 
ting forward till morning. We knocked up the 
house at the small Hotel de Poste, and were too 
thankful to find sleeping-quarters in a couple 
of little attics opening into each other : he and 
I appropriated the beds — his suite, consisting 
of a couple of soldiers and a Krankenpjieger, 
coiling themselves up upon the floor. At 4 30 I 
was afoot again, and left the party snoring in 
chorus. Thev had heard of a Mannheim de- 



48 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAE. 



parture to suit them at a Christian hour. As I 
looked forward to reaching Weissenburg some- 
time in the course of the morrow, and had learn- 
ed much of the vicissitudes of travel, I thought 
it prudent to take advantage of the early train 
that started at five. 

It was a pretty drive to Neustadt through 
the Bavarian Palatinate — farm-land like gar- 
dens, and gardens almost tropical in their lux- 
uriance, with their long rows of bee -hives 
among the wilderness of flowers ; fat cows wad- 



tile plains ; each bolder eminence crowned for 
the most part with its shattered keep or crum- 
bling castle. Now and then the fir-woods closed 
in upon the rail, scenting the fresh morning 
with resin, their clean red stems glowing in 
the golden sunbeams that struggled through the 
canopy of boughs. Here you looked up a sheer 
precipice — a red sandstone quarry, wrought by 
pickaxe and blasting- powder into outlines as 
savagely picturesque as if the cliff's had been the 
work of nature. There you gazed down into a 




THE OEOWN PKINOE, FEEDEKIOK WILLIAM. 



dling knee-deep in the grass of rich meadows — 
literally, a land flowing with milk and honey. 
What a country to support the war ; and what 
a desert it would have been by this time had 
the French army been as ready for the campaign 
as the French Ministry, and if the Marshals of 
Napoleon had followed the steps and game of 
those of the Grand Monarch. Not that the 
utilitarian element ruled supreme or even pre- 
dominant in the Palatinate landscape. There 
was a wooded Bergstrasse backing up these fer- 



gorge, where the green transparent stream came 
brawling over the boulders of its broken bed, 
sweeping round the quaint- gabled saw-mill, 
with its ponderous wheel, and past the gigantic 
piles of fresh-sawn timber. Leaving Neustadt, 
we wound round the corner of the hills, to 
mount the broad, level plains of the Ehine val- 
ley to Winden. Strange to say, the trains had 
kept time, or nearly so, and had already de- 
moralized me for delay. Starting very early, 
in apprehension of the worst, I should have 



ON THE TRAIL OE THE WAE. 



49 



been delighted to have compounded for reach- 
ing Weissenburg by nightfall. Now I found 
myself at Winden junction considerably before 
noon, and infinitely disgusted at hearing, in an- 
swer to my inquiry as to the train for Weissen- 
burg, the stereotyped response I had become so 
used to on the Saarbruck side, " Nichts ist he- 
stijnmt." Thanks to the pleasant travelling of 
the morning, I had half forgotten that Winden 
lay on the second of the converging lines of the 
German advance. Although since the day of 



less soldiery — all the excitement of the scram- 
ble, in fact, had lost its charm. Besides, after re- 
cent experiences in the way of pseudo-campaign- 
ing, I felt the natural contempt of a veteran for 
those unblooded recruits who had never been 
nearer to Metz than Winden. So I decided, in 
my haste, should the station-master assure me 
there was no immediate prospect of a departure, 
to sling my knapsack, and set forward on foot 
for Weissenbui'g. The station-master did say, 
hesitatingly, he thought he might venture to 




PEINCE FEEDEEIOK OHAEI.ES OF PEU66IA, 



Woerth the Crown Prince had marched for- 
ward " into the bowels of France " many a 
long league " without impediment," and al- 
though, consequently, there were now but few 
of those dismal caravans of wounded, yet troops 
and supplies must go forward somehow, and 
the gown still give place to arms, and civil traf- 
fic to military trains. 

The getting into a fresh rush of troops, stum- 
bling over heaps of cowskin knapsacks, and in a 
hot forenoon having to fight your way to a glass 
of beer through the disbanded ranks of a law- 
4 



pledge himself to a train in a couple of hours, al- 
though unforeseen contingencies might very pos- 
sibly defer the start. I thought I knew pretty 
nearly what that meant, and having gathered 
from my maps that the rail cut off a huge bend of 
the road, expressed my intention of walking, and 
begged his permission to stick by tlie line. Af- 
ter some benevolent expostulation, arguing from 
my weighty knapsack to the meridian sun, the 
courteous station-master ushered me into his 
sanctum, seated himself at his desk, and then 
requesting, as matter of ceremony, an inspec- 



50 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAE. 



tion of my papers, wrote me in due form the re- 
quired permission. 

Had I had any one to join me in the joke, I 
should have been much inclined to laugh at 
the airs of the amiable dignitary. As events 
showed, he understood his subordinates and 
their austere discharge of their duties better 
than I did. There were cottages stationed 
along the line at each few hundred yards, and 
at each of them the cantonnier was either lolling 
listlessly on the bench before his door, or delib- 
erately digging potatoes in his little garden, or 
else relaxing himself with affecting to repair the 
line. Everywhere he challenged you — com- 
manded you to stand, and demanded a formal 
production of documents from head - quarters. 
I do not say that a liberal largess of florins 
might not have proved as efficient a talisman to 
pass you through the chain of posts. But as- 
suredly it was a happy and economical presen- 
timent that prompted the humble request to the 
.chief, that flattered his vanity and saved my 
pocket. Had I only practised the lessons of 
patience I ought to have been learning during 
the last ten days, I might have spared myself 
a hot, dusty walk. Just as I entered Weissen- 
burg, excessively parched and slightly footsore, 
the train panted past me into the station, beat- 
ing me cleverly by a couple of hundred yards. 

Weissenburg is a quaint German-French old- 
fashioned little town lying just within the 
French border — "Weissenburg," I presume, 
the primitive German form of the French cor- 
ruption, Wissenbourg. When I call it Ger- 
man-French, I do not mean to assert the pres- 
ent existence of German" sympathies in the 
inhabitants. Far from that, they gave their 
Bavarian neighbors a reception that reflected 
much more credit on their "pluck" and pat- 
riotism than their prudence. But it and its 
inhabitants have a thoroughly German air; 
and although the citizens have been aspiring to 
learn French for a couple of centuries or so, as 
yet they have only succeeded in hopelessly cor- 
rupting their German. French takes prece- 
dence of German on the sign-boards, although 
you sorely stagger the shop-keeper when you 
address him in the tongue of his ambitious pre- 
dilection. With its venerable brown tiles and 
its picturesque white gables, its vine-covered 
windows often looking upon streams instead of 
streets, it reminds one greatly of a miniature 
Nuremberg. It is true, the mountain brooks 
that flow through Weissenburg are beautifully 
limpid, while the sluggish arms of the Pegnitz 
are a solution of greasy brown meadow-land. 
The Angel Inn, lately the head-quarters of so 
much martial authority, the haunt of so many 



special correspondents, is quite in keeping with 
the place. Standing a little back from the nar- 
row street, it lolls dreamily over a venerable 
bridge, pensively contemplating the stream that 
ripples past its moss-grown basement stones. 
A gallery, with a series of bedroom doors open- 
ing out upon it, runs round a spacious court- 
yard, embracing piles of fire-wood, medijeval 
carriages, and primitive carts, and vocal with 
pigeons and poultry. Under the archway you 
enter by, you turn aside into a double guest- 
chamber — the outer one appropriated to the de- 
mocracy of the place, the inner to the aristocra- 
cy and stranger guests. You have a choice of 
ascents to the bedrooms. There is a wooden 
staircase in the open air, and a well-worn stone 
one corkscrewing round a massive turret. And 
up stairs, if your curiosity tempts you to a study 
of the architectural arrangements, you find your- 
self hopelessly bewildered. Viewed from with- 
out, the inn seems small and compact enough ; 
seen from within, the upper floors would seem 
to go struggling all over the little town, such is 
the length of disproportioned side-passages and 
great halls vaulted over with rafters and pro- 
longed to deformity. The most modern things 
about it were a couple of smart, bustling waiters, 
one of whom had been trained in London, and 
was fluent of English with a faint cockney ac- 
cent. 

Weissenburg, commanded on all sides by hills, 
some of which threaten to topple over into it, is 
a fortified town. In time of peace its fortifica- 
tions provide the inhabitants with an agreeable 
lounge the whole length of its enceinte; while, 
in the event of war, they ought to have caused 
them no manner of inconvenience. It is said 
the attack which carried it on the 4th of Au- 
gust was a happy inspiration ; that the order 
was merely to drive the French back into the 
streets, and leave them undisturbed there until 
the rest of the field-guns should come up. 
Doubtless, the menace of batteries in position 
would have been quite sufficient to make the 
French abandon a place they could have no 
hope of holding, and, had they waited, the Ger- 
mans might have spared some bloodshed and a 
good deal of unnecessary ill-feeling. There 
was no artillery mounted on the antiquated lit- 
tle ramparts ; the dry moats are beds of nettles 
and heaps of rubbish, and happily the elms and 
poplars had been left to wave in peace over the 
very edge of the glacis. But the impetus and 
elan of the Germans naturally carried them for- 
ward ; they entered the place pell-mell in a 
hand-to-hand fight with the enemy, and made 
good their footing in it, while the French fell 
back on their supports on the Geisberg. The 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



51 



gate by which they entered, with the adjacent 
houses, showed all the signs of serious work, al- 
though already, when I saw them, glazier and 
mason had been hard at work. And, while the 
fighting was going forward, those of the Ger- 
man pieces that were up protected the attack 
of their troops with a heavy fire directed on the 
.town. It caused some damage, although no 
great destruction, and, fortunately, a wonderful- 
ly trifling loss of civilian life. Although the 
, inhabitants opened fire here and there from their 
windows, to the extreme irritation of their Ba- 
varian neighbors and visitors, I could only hear 
of five well-authenticated deaths from shot, 
shell, ball, or bayonet. 

On the side of the Geisberg, you leave the 
town by a low-browed archway, under a mod- 
erately venerable tower. The bill-sticker has 
been abroad before the occupation and since. 
On one side are advertisements of American 
steam-packets of the Havre line, of Parisian 
Assurance-companies against fire and hail; 
on the other, various proclamations by the Pro- 
visional Military Government for the guidance 
and warning of Alsatians who wish to preserve 
their personal liberty or lay their heads on 
bloodless pillows. Light-blue Bavarians keep 
watch and ward all over the place : here at the 
gate ; outside of it, by the railings of the rail- 
way-station ; farther on by the wooden lazaret 
and on the skirts of the tents, where a battalion 
is camping in the open ; by a park of guns and 
wagons, some of them captured, others brought 
up from the rear. Under the broad avenues of 
fine old trees that circle that side of the town, 
there ruminated great herds of long -horned 
cattle, better off for provender and for flesh than 
any I had seen as yet. 

So far you follow the Strasbourg road. It rises 
rapidly for a long mile, to surmount the lofty 
ridge to the right of the main French positions 
on the Geisberg. As it threatens to carry you 
wide of the ground where the battle raged the 
hottest, you leave it, to set your face south-east- 
ward across the fields. These dip in an easy 
slope down to a ditch that divides them oblique- 
ly to the line you are following, and which runs 
nearly parallel to the heights you are advancing 
on. Beyond the ditch, the fields rapidly be- 
come the heights, rising stiffly until in places 
they are well-nigh as steep as the Spicheren. 
Whatever the faults of the French, when they 
did elect to make a stand, they can not be said 
to have neglected the natural advantages of the 
ground. The ridge of the Geisberg, properly 
so called, extends, on the left, fi'om a pair of 
isolated poplars, conspicuous objects from every- 
where on the plains to the east, so soon as the 



eye can detach them from the sky-line, to a mass 
of building on the right, half lost in a cluster of 
venerable trees. These poplars mark the spot 
where General Felix Douai fell ; the buildings 
are part of the farm-steading, and of the north- 
ern gable of the Chateau of the Geisberg. Im- 
mediately under the chateau gardens, the Geis- 
berg drops sheer into the flats, and then turns 
back to run sharply southward, roughly parallel 
to the opposite Berggtrasse of Baden. 

A lovely afternoon was drawing to evening 
as I struck across the fields. Here and there I 
came on the traces of camping and fighting — 
boughs stuck in the ground, the cooking trenches, 
the brushes and crushed kettles, the shreds of 
cloth, the scraps of weather-beaten paper. In 
the ditch at the bottom such objects had gath- 
ered thicker, and there were the remains of boots 
and knapsacks and helmets. But the dominant 
sensation was surprise that the signs of a battle- 
day little more than three weeks old should be 
so nearly effaced. Where the land that had 
been reaped prematurely had remained untouch- 
ed, it naturally bore marks of the tread of feet. 
But much of it had been turned by the plough, 
and one field of mangel-wurzel must have been 
forced by the warm rain drenching the heated 
ground, already it was so luxuriant. A great 
gang of peasant-girls were hoeing the drills, 
and in the surrounding stillness you might have 
heard their songs and their shrill laughter miles 
away. Neither the reality of foreign occupa- 
tion, nor the thought of the shambles they were 
working in, seemed to dash their spirits. Far- 
ther on, I stumbled upon a line or two of hasti- 
ly cast-up earth-works, half hidden among the 
mangels. Then I crossed a country road, 
grooved in the face of the Geisberg, a few yards 
under the brow, and then, with a sharp pull of 
half a minute, I stood by the poplars. One or 
the other might have served for head-stones to 
the pair of graves beneath — for there was noth- 
ing more than a little wooden cross upon the 
one, a couple of crossed branches upon the oth- 
er. Who slept there — French, German, or 
Kabyle — there was not even a line of pencil- 
writing to tell. Between these poplars and the 
farm-house that stood some few hundred yards 
behind, the Turcos were said to have suffered 
heavily, having for once at least fought most 
desperately. A Frenchman, who chanced to 
come sauntering by with a couple of pointers, 
told me that General Douai dropped while vain- 
ly attempting to persuade his barbarians to fall 
back before inevitable annihilation. Neither 
friend nor enemy, so far as I know, questions 
the chivalrous courage of this gallant ofiicer, who 
was fortunate in a soldier's death, and possibly 



52 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



lav buried under the very mound I was seated 
on. But I should have given more implicit 
credence to that especial version of his fate, had 
I not read something much resembling it in one 
of the French journals — I believe the "Figaro." 

The view from the Geisberg is superb. To 
the north, south, and west, in the direction of 
Bergzabern, Soultz, and Woerth, you look over 
range on range of densely timbered chains of 
hills, the shades of the most distant woods melt- 
ing away into the blue-gray of the skies. It 
was the very country for outnumbered troops to 
wage a warof mountainbarricades. The mount- 
ains to the north are the Haardt ; those to the 
west and south, the Vosges. To the east the 
broad plain of the Rhine is bounded by the dis- 
tant hills of Baden. Weissenburg, in the val- 
ley below, looks, as they say of Stuttgart, as if, 
in a good year, it ought to be drowned in its 
wines. Thence the eye travels, by a street of 
villages, along ten miles of orchards to the church 
towers of Winden. The French field-glasses, 
if the French intendance thought of providing 
such things, ought to have disengaged every 
movement of the enemy from the straggling 
cover. 

From the poplars towards the farm of the 
chateau my path lay over new-ploughed land. 
One or two of the great square grave-mounds 
had been respected, although trenched on to the 
very edge ; but the team had not thought it worth 
while to turn the smaller ones, and the furrows 
lay straight and level across resting-places only 
marked by the fragile cross. The replacing the 
cross was a certain tribute to piety, when it might 
have seemed the farmer would have acted more 
prudently in effacing all traces of what would 
be popularly condemned as an outrage. The 
expression sacrilege, I presume, properly applies 
only to violating duly consecrated ground. For 
myself, I confess to some sympathy with him. 
If the house I had inhabited peacefully for years 
were suddenly made the scene and centre of hor- 
rors that sent a shudder through the civilized 
world ; if I were condemned to live on in it, I 
fancy I should do my very best, morally and 
materially, to consign them to oblivion. Not 
that any efforts of the tenant are likely to be 
crowned with full success, for six or eight hun- 
dred men lie buried within stone's-throw of his 
windows. If a single murder makes a haunted 
house, what should be the effect of a thousand 
violent deaths in the precincts of a lonely farm 
and a somewhat ghostly-looking chateau. The 
natives may be superstitious, but fortunately they 
are not imaginative. The dead had been buried 
Qut of their sight, the rains had washed their 
blood-stained walls and cleansed their gory gar- 



den-paths. They had repaired their roofs, and 
replaced the broken window-panes and the shiv- 
ered sashes. The new dairy-pails were stand- 
ing in a sparkling row before the freshly-painted 
door. The women were going singing about 
their work, and the children, with light screams 
of laughter, were playing about the court-yard. 
The family looked all the merrier after its es- 
cape from the terrible anxieties it had labored 
through. 

Yet the fight had left marks behind not so 
easily removed as the blood-stains or the broken 
glass. It must have found the chateau and 
farm-buildings a picture of rude luxury and 
primitive comfort. Each building in the court- 
yard, every antiquated appliance, was a study in 
its way. Through an orchard barked by ball, 
after the manner of the trees on the Spicheren, 
and past a new paling splintered to tooth-picks, 
you entered by a pair of folding-doors that had 
been held as desperately as the familiarly his- 
torical ones of Hougoumont. Immediately in 
the corner to your right stood the farm-house, 
its dented walls still bespattered with bullet- 
marks, its venerable tiles blotched all over with 
the gaudy new ones that patched the roof. The 
vine at the end had been nailed up again with 
shreds of German blue and French garance, om- 
inously suggestive ; but the double row of bee- 
hives stood tenantless, and more than one of 
them had tumbled over. Two sides of the quad- 
rangle were inclosed by a lofty stone wall with 
broad projecting eaves, sheltering long ladders 
that hung below. Opposite was a row of sta- 
bles and cow-houses. In the space between was 
the quaintest of mills, where the ponderous 
grindstone revolved in a massive granite trough 
by ox-power applied to the most clumsy wood- 
en leverage. Yet more old-fashioned was the 
draw-well beyond, with its bucket and winch 
and rope, and its extravagance of solid orna- 
ment in the shape of a couple of useless stone 
pillars supporting a ponderous and purposeless 
arch. 

You passed through a door in the farm-build- 
ings, to find yourself in a second court, of which 
the side that faced you was formed by the rear 
of the chateau, the other two by the out-build- 
ings, stables, and servants' apartments running 
back from it. Spacious as was the inclosure, it 
was more than half-shaded by a spreading chest- 
nut, which threw off its gigantic boughs so high 
that a quantity of the brobdingnagian hop-poles 
of these districts were piled comfortably round 
the trunk. The old clock-turret, with its peal 
of gilded bells, showed that once on a time the 
chateau had prided itself on its feudal splendor, 
although the beds of weeds and the crumbling 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



53 



plaster looked as if of late years it had been suf- 
fered to get somewhat out of elbows. Bat the 
slow decay of years counted for little in pres- 
ence of the swift devastation of the 4th of Au- 
gust. Here, at the bacli, there were, of course, 
few signs of positive damage ; but when you 
passed in-doors, what a scene ! The bright blue 
sky smiled in mockery through half a dozen rag- 
ged holes in the roof and a great irregular em- 
brasure above the hall-door. You went out upon 
the spacious landing of the wide stone staircase 
that led down right and left to the garden by 
flights of a score of easy steps. One half the 
massive balustrade was smashed clean away, and 
the fragments of the rest had been sent flying 
all about the gravel. The facade of the house 
had been riddled, especially under the cornice ; 
the ridge of the roof had been shattered ; the 
chimneys had suffered heavily ; one of them, 
struck below, had been twisted half round where 
it stood. Strange to say, the trees had escaped 
miraculously, although one or two of the hop- 
poles that stood on either side had been cut 
across, and the withered bine drooped with the 
broken pole in contrast with the lush luxuriance 
of the plant below. The stone pavilion, at the 
corner of the balustraded terrace, had naturally 
come in for its full share of damage. Evident- 
ly for long it had been a favorite holiday- haunt 
of the neighboring Philistines, and its plastered 
walls were thickly scribbled with autographs of 
the hydra-headed. The view over the Biener- 
wald to the Schwartzwald in itself was worth 
the coming for. When I had had enough of 
the place, following an avenue that bore the 
marks of artillery fire, and crossing a field of 
French beans, through which you could trace 
the rush of the troops, I found my way into a 
road that led back to the town by what had been 
the left of the German advance. 

After Forbach and Weissenburg, I own, I be- 
gan to have enough of battle-fields ; that is to 
say, although the study of the positions rather 
gained than lost in interest, morbid curiosity as 
to graves and relics, devastated country and des- 
olated homes, was well-nigh satisfied, and such 
second-hand horrors b6gan to pall. As it must 
be duller still, the listening to repetitions of the 
same ghastly histories, I shall be all the hastier 
in my visit to Woerth. In simple scenery the 
expedition was a lovely one as you need care to 
make, and those who may go later to visit the 
scenes of the war are likely to come back des- 
perately enamored of the secluded beauties of 
the Vosges. 

I had supper-dinner at the "Angel," at the 
end of a long table crowded with Bavarian of- 
ficers. Overhearing a couple of them talking 



of an early start for the front next morning, I 
ventured to trouble them with some inquiries, 
and was informed that a military train would 
start next morning at five, and was likely to 
start punctually. Accepting the latter assur- 
ance with a certain reserve, and moreover not 
being over-particular as to how I found my way, 
I strolled down quietly at 6 30, just in time to 
present a military voucher and take my seat. 
An hour later I was deposited at Soulz, where 
I negotiated a more than tolerable breakfast, 
accompanied by an excellent flask of Durck- 
heim Feuerberger ; was served with coffee and 
chasse in due form, and started afterwards for 
Woerth. 

As picturesque scenery translated into mili- 
tary language generally means formidable posi- 
tions, it is not surprising that the fighting of 
the war has fallen among the fairest scenes of 
Alsace and Lorraine, Forbach, Saarbruck, 
Weissenburg, are all charming in their way ; 
so I believe are the three battle-fields of Metz, 
but none of them can be lovelier than Woerth. 
The village lies, as usual, in a hollow between 
a couple of spurs trending out from the great 
western ridge. As usual, there are the heights 
and the woods, and in this case the desperate 
scramble of the stormers was up the face of 
stone-walls, and over vineyard terraces. There 
are the usual bullet-marks everywhere in some- 
what more than the usual profusion, and far 
more than the usual number of graves. For 
the village itself, it had suffered terribly, having 
been assaulted again and again before being 
carried finally ; and for some time, as a cure' I 
met described it, it had been the centre of a per- 
fect waterspout of shot and shell. And with no 
great exaggeration apparently, for the woe-be- 
gone houses and the roofless church were there 
to bear him corroborative testimony. 

Picking up a young Prussian sergeant, who 
had been wounded in the shoulder and wrist by 
the same rifle-ball, very nearly on the identical 
spot where I found him smoking, we started on 
our walk. First we climbed to the ridge from 
which the French were driven, and then we 
turned off along the crest towards Froschwei- 
ler. It was the centre of their position, and there 
their artillery had been stationed. Froschwei- 
ler had suffered relatively even more seriously 
than Woerth : its church was destroyed, with a 
score or so of its houses, while scarcely one of 
the rest but could count its casualties. Beyond 
Froschweiler lies the chateau of the Count of 
Durckheim, where McMahon had his head- 
quarters when, to his intense surprise, he found 
himself commanding in a general engagement. 
It sounds incredible that the Marshal should not 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAE. 



have benefited by the very strong hint given him 
at Weissenburg, nor placed himself on guard in 
face of enemies so enterprising. He ought to 
have known, besides, what he seems never to 
have suspected, that he was so far outnumbered 
as in some degree to neutralize the immense 
superiority of his ground. He had extended 
his line to weakness; when the Germans at- 
tacked him in force from Soulz, it was literally 
rolled up upon its centre at Woerth and Frosch- 
weiler. Then the village of Woerth was taken, 
the heights above were stormed ; the desperate 
stand made at Froschweiler was overcome at 



abandoning their arms, and stripping off their 
very accoutrements. The general's baggage- 
wagons and the carriages of his suite became 
prize of the war. That night the Uhlans mas- 
queraded merrily round their camp-fires in the 
robes and chapeaux and crinolines found in the 
Marshal's military chest. 

The road back to Weissenburg wound about 
among the valleys of Vosges, through woods and 
vineyards and villages, fields of maize and to- 
bacco, and forest-locked meadows, watered by 
rippling streams and bubbling with sparkling 
fountains. Certainly, the Alsatians' lines had 




MAE8HAL M'MAHON. 



last by the German weight and the German 
courage, and the French fell back in full retreat. 
I tell the story as my Prussian guide told it me. 
At Woerth the French seem, in the first place, 
at least, to have owed their defeat to scandalous 
generalship and indiiferent leading. By all ac- 
counts the rank and file showed both courage 
and constancy in the battle. But, the battle 
lost, the demoralization was instantaneous ; the 
retreat became a rout, and the rout a flight. 
They left their dead and dropped their wound- 
ed, and whole regiments threw away every thing, 



fallen in pleasant places ; and for the enjoy- 
ment of such a country it seemed almost worth 
paying the penalty of a frontier position and oc- 
casional hostile occupation. But, except that 
men were scarce, there were few signs of the 
trail of the war. Every one was passively, if 
not demonstratively, friendly ; the women, rec- 
ognizing a stranger in the pedestrian, often 
volunteered a smiling good-evening; the men 
working by the road, or driving their wagons, 
turned to nod you a salutation. Assuredly they 
were no connoisseurs in I'ace or dress, and did 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



55 



not set me down for an Englishman. It is nat- 
ural implicitly to accept the reluctant testimony 
of Germans when they talk of the strong anti- 
German feelings of Alsace. Yet of three Alsa- 
tians I held political converse with, in the course 
of that evening walk, one only expressed him- 
self virulently in regard to a transfer of alle- 
giance, and he was a Catholic cure. Of coui'se. 
North German Protestantism is the bete noire 
of a clergy — deluding guides of the blind — who 
have systematically swayed their humbler pa- 
rishioners by their superstition and credulity. 
Of the two laymen, one was a village host, and 
the other a well-to-do farmer. Perhaps the 
former's profession had made him somewhat 
latitudinarian in the matter of patriotism ; but 
so long as things settled back to a state of peace 
and plenty, he implied it was matter of utter in- 
difference to him whether he was taxed from the 
banks of the Seine or the Spree. As for the 
farmer, he was infinitely more violent against 
the Empire than its invaders. He abused the 
former for the sufferings of which the latter had 
been the instruments, and declared if he had not 
believed in its peaceful professions, he would 
never have voted, as he did, for the plebiscitum. 
I suspect that, like many others, he accepted the 
motd'ordre oi U empire <^est lapaix, in the sense 
of peace at home and unlimited right of victo- 
rious war abroad. At least, he denounced, with 
concentrated vigor of abuse, the forces who had 
failed to make good the frontier, from the com- 
mander-in-chief down to the drummer-boys, and 
railed at a standing army that, when it attempt- 
ed to move at all, could only move in retreat. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

ROUND STRASBOUKG. 

It was hard work reposing one's self at Ba- 
den-Baden. The bombardment of Strasbourg 
would not suffer one to rest. Afa^on deparler, 
of course — for, as Johnson said once, when rec- 
ommending Boswell to clear his mind of cant, 
men sleep none the worse and eat none the less 
for public misfortunes, however deeply they feel 
them : I quote the idea, and not the precise 
language. At Baden, in the absence of graver 
excitement — balls, concerts, flirtations, break- 
ings of the bank, and suicides — every one inter- 
ested themselves in the siege. The few French 
and Russian gentlemen who formed the little 
dinner-party at the table-d'kote speculated on 
the persistence of the assault and the tenacity 
of the defense. There were refugees recently 
arrived from the beleaguered place, who became 



the centres of curiosity and compassion, mobbed 
by the idle and the charitable. The practice of 
charity was the more creditable to the Badeners 
that, in the circumstances, it might well have 
begun and ended at home, for their prosperity 
was dying by inches of an atrophy. Up by the 
Jagdhaus you might hear, they said, faint inter- 
mittent murmurs in the south-west, the expiring 
waves of the sound of the bombardment, and 
parties each afternoon went up to drink beer 
and listen for them. 

Although the works held good as yet, the sus- 
tained bombardment seemed to have fairly 
breached the heavens, and brought them down 
in a steady rain-pour. The course of the Rhine 
was generally wrapped in dense clouds of fog ; 
and it was by no means favorable weather, for 
purposes either of travel or observation. Wait- 
ers and loungers were circumstantially minute 
as to the objections raised by the besieging 
forces to strangers caught prying about any- 
where in the vicinity of their lines. So, al- 
though placing no implicit faith in these, it was 
with a very vague notion how far I should be 
able to push my reconnaissance, that I took my 
ticket for Appenweier. Moreover, as my time 
was running short, and the weather execrable, 
I did not start with much of that determination 
of purpose that goes so far to command suc- 
cess. 

Appenweier, as most people know, is the 
junction for Kehl, Strasbourg, and Paris on 
the Baden railway. The station was much as 
it used to be, but of course the Kehl service was 
suspended. There was no descent of the mot- 
ley Parisian contingent — badauds and boursiers 
and lorettes, with their dramatic travelling-cos- 
tumes and their elaborate travelling appliances ; 
no canvas-covered chests, that would have held 
the fair wearers bodily, robes bouffe'es, and all; 
no brass-knobbed portmanteaux and brass-han- 
dled cartons de chapeaux. There was a numer- 
ous staff of railway officials, but, strange to say, 
few soldiers, and not many peasants. There 
was a train pulled up by the siding with hermet- 
ically-sealed and carefully-tarpaulined wagons ; 
and, judging by the strength of sentries patrol- 
ling the line on either side, the contents were 
inflammable and explosive. The sustained 
row of guns argued a steady demand for the 
ammunition needed to keep up a fire so warm. 
Having donned my water-proof and dropped my 
knapsack, I started on the Kehl road. Brought 
face to face with an infliction so appalling as a 
bombardment, for the first time, you found your- 
self half expecting to find every-day work par- 
alyzed in its immediate neighborhood ; and un- 
til you reflected how quickly familiarity with 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAR. 



56 

hovrovs breeds indifference to them, you felt in- 
clined to be scandalized at the man quietlj' 
breaking stones by the side of the road, and the 
boy vacantly whistling as he brought home his 
team from the field. A moment's thought, of 
course, convicted you of the absurdity of the no- 
tion. You might as vrell expect to see the 



signs or none of your being in close proximity 
to one of the centres of the war. It was alto- 
gether an affair between the Strasbourgeois 
and the troops, and luckily no especial business 
of the parishes. So you would have said, at 
least, looking on the surface of things, and prob- 
ably you would have wronged the nation. 




GENKKAL TIEBIOH, OOMMAUDBE OF THE FBENOU IN 8TKAS130UBG. 



horses grazing by a great railway line gallop mad- 
ly round their pasture each time a train rushed 
by them. They did it the first time and the 
second ; the third they merely raised their heads, 
and afterwards they learned to have neither 
eyes nor ears for it. Except for the din I was 
walking into, so far as Kork, there were few 



They were sympathetic, although stolid and far 
from sentimental; quite ready to show their 
sympathy in more practical shape than by 
wringing their hands or raising them in horror 
over their heads. The unlucky refugees from 
the other Rhine bank received everywhere, as I 
was given to understand, the most friendly wel- 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE "WAR. 



57 



come, and the poor people did the very best 
they could for their beggared guests. 

On the Strasbourg side of Kehl, I came upon 
a Baden outpost, and was ordered to stand and 
explain. Having been succinctly candid as to 
my intentions, and having exhibited my pa- 
pers, the non-commissioned officer rubbed his 
hands, and turned awkwardly on his heel, as if 
he washed them of the responsibility either of 
sending me back or formally authorizing me to 
go on. So I relieved his embarrassment by 
walking forward, to be stopped again a mile and 
a half farther. This time the outpost was shel- 
tering in a shed at the entrance to a little ham- 
let, and looked hopelessly bored and rather out 
ofhumoi'. I was not surprised : their look-out 
was over a dismal swamp, into something wet 
and raw that might be fog, but felt like rain. 
Again I tendered the sergeant in charge my ex- 
planations and papers, which he received in si- 
lence and with evident distrust ; and then my 
cognac flask, which he promptly approved and 
gratefully thanked me for. After that voucher 
for my character, he became friendly, and, call- 
ing one of his men, ordered him to conduct me 
to the lieutenant. The lieutenant was civility 
itself; looked slightly at my pass ; observed that 
of course it was quite conclusive as to my iden- 
tity and motives, but that, at the same time, as 
it was not a direct admission to the works be- 
foi-e Strasbourg, he warned me I should be sub- 
jected to continual interruption in going for- 
ward. He could not venture to spare one of 
his men for the purpose, or he would have sent 
one with me to the commandant at Kehl, who 
would, doubtless, have passed me on to the 
proper quarter. I remarked to the friendly 
lieutenant that mine was only a flying visit, 
that I was, in fact, detached from my baggage, 
and that it seemed to me hardly worth while go- 
ing through so many tedious preliminaries for the 
very little I could hope to do. He quite concur- 
red. "Believe me, unless you mean to take up 
your quarters with us for some days, in this dog's 
weather you will see nothing to repay j'ou by 
going forward. The fire is all on one side now ; 
since yesterday morning there has been scai'ce- 
ly a shot from the fortress." I was willing 
enough to be persuaded, and to decide against 
submitting myself to a series of cross-examina- 
tions, to giving endless trouble, and inviting re- 
buffs in high quarters, for all the little I should 
have time to see. And just then a burly Kran- 
kenpfleger, who had been puffing his pipe in 
the Wirthsliaus parlor, where our conversation 
had passed, suggested that, instead of forcing 
the chain of posts on the road to Kehl, I should 
turn them by striking the Rhine bank elsewhere. 



The lieutenant saw no objection, but, on the 
contrary, handed me his card with a pencilled 
recommendation on it, in case of its proving 
useful ; and although my enthusiasm was some- 
what chilled by the cold and the wet, I felt com- 
mitted to act on the advice. As I turned out 
into the street, a long, narrow country cart with 
a powerful gray, some seventeen hands high, 
bearing stiffly away from one side of the pole, 
came rattling up. The young peasant who 
drove saw me eye it hesitatingly, and, jumping 
off, came up to place it at my disposal. Very 
brief bargaining ended in an amicable under- 
standing. I secured him for the afternoon, con- 
tracting to be landed at Appenweier some time 
in course of the evening. 

I can not say the expedition repaid me. The 
nearer you got to Strasbourg, the more you 
heard and the less you saw. Laps in the 
ground on the opposite bank seemed to hide 
most of the main batteries ; while an occasion- 
al heavy swirl of gray smoke out of some inno- 
cent-looking nook or hollow, some patch of wil- 
low or poplar, or the flash of a time-shell burst- 
ing in the air above the city, made up but poor- 
ly for the absence of any comprehensive impres- 
sion as to the siege operations. It was harder 
to feel sad or serious over the sufferings of the 
besieged than one had found it in England, for 
the sense of disappointment and failure turned 
your course of reflections into selfish and per- 
sonal channels. The roar was terrific, it is true, 
and terribly sustained, thunder-clap on thun- 
der-clap, bellow on bellow, when the reports 
got caught and entangled in the slight rising 
grounds ; and the intervals between the inter- 
mittent bass of great guns going off" singly, and 
sometimes by pairs, were filled up by a rattling 
treble of small-arms. But the ears only tanta- 
lized the eyes, and, having done so much, and 
satisfied myself how little worth doing, on the 
whole, it was, my first idea was to fall back on 
Offenburg or Achern, and hope for a bright day 
to give me a better idea of the general effect of 
the bombardment. And all this time, when I 
took time to reflect, I was painfully conscious of 
the growing heartlessness for which I had been 
inclined to blame the Baden peasants. I caught 
myself thinking of the siege as a spectacle, and 
yet honestly I believe that on occasions I could 
sympathize with the sufferings of the Stras- 
bourgeois, at least as sincerely as most people. 

I was very hungry, and it was raining heavier 
than ever ; and the horse was eating his corn, 
and it was fast growing dark, and it was just 
possible there might be more to be seen in the 
darkness. So, for these various reasons, I ar- 
ranged with my driver to defer our start from 



58 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAE. 



Auenheim to eight o'clock. He was enjoying 
himself thoroughly, "hail fellow, well met," 
with the whole jovial village circle, and assent- 
ed heartily. I can not say I was rewarded for 
the delay by any thing I witnessed of the bom- 
bardment. Nor had we an agreeable drive to 
Appenweier ; for thick darkness was added to 
the dense rain, and the roads were frightfully 
heavy where they had not been newly metalled. 
At Appenweier, at last, I had a turn of luck. 
At the station a train of empty carriages were 
on the point of starting for the north ; the rail- 
way people made no objection to my taking up 
my quarters in one of them, and the guard un- 
dertook to put me out at Achern. I knew noth- 
ing of Appenweier hostelries, and was glad to 
avoid experiences of them ; but in the middle 
of the night I succeeded in knocking up the 
boots in the snug little Krone at Achern. 

To the south of Achern rises a vine-clad 
knoll, covered with a summer-house and al-fres- 
co tables and benches. Although not many 
hundred feet above the level of the Rhine, there 
is nothing higher between it and Strasbourg 
Minster spire. Thanks to the eminence on 
which it is built, the mass of the grand cathe- 
dral towers in solitary grandeur from a plain 
where you can distinguish no traces of a city, 
while the spire overtops the sky-line of the dis- 
tant mountain-range behind. It formed the 
centre-point of a rude circle, that might, rough- 
ly speaking, be some four miles in diameter — a 
circle marked in the wreathing rings of white 
smoke, that lighted and thickened and broke 
and joined again, in time, to the horrible music 
of the cannonade. They might be directing 
the bombardment on the citadel and the face 
of the earth-works ; but the fire was incessant, 
and apparently most impartial. Even the stray 
shots that must overfly their mark were enough 
to spread terror in every quarter of the city. 
One could dimly picture the feelings of quiet- 
going citizens, who found their homes the cen- 
tre of a circle of targets, in the midst of a con- 
verging fire of heavy guns. No wonder they 
ran like rats to their sewers and cellars ; no 
wonder the women and children, who had sought 
shelter behind the batteries, began to feel they 
had fled from the phantom of the war to face its 
reality — that they had leaped literally into the 
fire out of the frying-pan. Neither common- 
sense nor sad experience seems to have taught 
the French that civilians who run to cover in a 
fortress in war-time might as well clasp a light- 
ning-conductor in a thunder-stoi'm, or take ref- 
uge behind the plates of a floating-battery on 
the approach of the enemy's fleet. Fortunate- 
ly, modern war does not stand upon the utmost 



jot and tittle of its stern rights. Even then the 
city gates were periodically thrown open, and 
the besiegers temporarily suspended their fire 
to sufffer an exodus of the helpless. And, as I 
said, those who found their way out to the Ger- 
man side had no reason to complain of their 
welcome, and perhaps had the best of it. At 
least they found themselves in quiet waters at 
once, instead of being buffeted back in the ebb 
of retreat before the flood of the invasion, among 
people whose own case was desperate enough to 
exhaust their personal sympathies. Coming 
from Baden the day before, we had passed the 
monument erected to the great architect of 
Strasbourg among the vineyards at the back of 
his native village. It was enough to make Er- 
win of Steinbach " walk," if he were conscious 
of the frightful risks that, in these frightful 
times, threatened his master-piece he had de- 
signed for eternity. One felt for the moment 
that even the triumph of the right would be 
dearly bought, if it should find Strasbourg Min- 
ster a pile of ruins. Yet, what was the great 
Cathedral, with all its treasures, to the peaceful 
homes that were being wrecked around ? I do 
not mean wrecked by actual bombardment — by 
all accounts, Strasbourg had suffered nothing in 
its stone and lime compared to Kehl — but by 
the irretrievable desolation and ruin that must 
be left behind. 

That was the strain of moralizing one re- 
lapsed into, none the less painfully real that it 
was very commonplace and closely bordering on 
the maudlin. Only the exceedingly ci'editable 
sentiments one entertains generally as to the 
horrors of war, and the awful responsibilities of 
those who wage it, do gain something in shape 
and intensity even by so distant a view as I had 
from Achern. I could not help wondering 
whether events would have passed as they did 
could the Minister who fanned the flame with 
his fiery accents in the French Chambers, or 
that other who blew the bellows with a light 
heart — I say nothing of their fallen master — 
have been taken a tour in the spirit round the 
battle-fields, hospitals, and beleaguered cities 
for which France is indebted to their " policy." 

In the absence of vultures, the only natives 
of France and Germany to whom the war seem- 
ed to bring health and peace and prosperity 
were the Alsatian and Baden geese. Chevet, 
Potel, and Chabot had shut up shop, so far as 
they were concerned, and pate defoie gras was 
at a discount. Nor, account for it as we may, 
did their numbers seem thinned ; nor could 
they have been cooked to any great extent in 
simpler fashion. It was absurd to talk of 
scarcity in Alsace, while Weissenburg and the 



ON THE TRAIL OE THE WAE. 



59 



adjacent villages were vocal with them ; while 
they still mobbed the passing stranger on the 
skirts of each hamlet from Appenweier to the 
Rhine. In the streams that water Weissenburg 
especially, you remarked them disporting them- 
selves in a flush of exuberant spirits. "Fine 
season for the liver," you could imagine one 
hissing to the other. " Wonderful, wonderful ; 
haven't heard of sickness anywhere." Then a 
duet : " God bless the Emperor and the second 
Empire ;" and the interlocutors would take 
simultaneous headers, waving their tail feathers 
enthusiastically as they disappeared in the mid- 
dle of the widening circles. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

THE TOTTRIST-COTTNTRT IN VTAE-TIME. 

Considering that the people who supply the 
tourists of Central and Southern Germany are 
neutral or native ; that Frenchmen never move 
across their frontiers except to visit Spa, Ems, 
or Baden, it might have been imagined the 
banks and baths of the Rhine would have been 
nearly as crowded as usual. Not a leaf of 
their sylvan beauties had been disturbed ; none 
of the menaced trees had fallen by Fort Con- 
stantine or Fort Alexander or on the rocky 
slopes of Ehrenbreitstein, and the orchards and 
gardens still came confidingly up to the armed 
works of Mayence. Railway-travelling might 
unfairly try the patience of those who had to 
scramble out their allotted holiday-time at ex- 
press speed ; but when the phantom of a for- 
eign invasion had been dispelled, the German 
steamers resumed the service the Dutch ones 
had never suspended. Once upon the double 
line of rails at Mannheim, the communications 
with Heidelberg, Baden, and Basle were very 
reasonably regular, and north, east, and south, 
to the Hartz, the Elbe, Bohemia, and Tyrol, 
there were, I imagine, few difiiculties or none. 
The season had been almost too lovely until the 
weather broke, towards the middle of August, 
and for invalids and valetudinarians assuredly 
the breezes of the Taunus and the Bergstrasse 
had lost none of their freshness, nor the Brun- 
nen of Nassau and the Schwartzwald any of their 
virtue. But if the rails had been taken up from 
Cologne to Mayence ; if the Rhine bed had been 
paved with torpedoes ; if the springs of the 
baths had been poisoned, and the mountain air 
had come breathing off the tainted battle-fields 
by Metz, the fair country could hardly have 
been more generally shunned. 

The Rhine had never seen so slack a season 



since the introduction of steam made Cologne 
Cathedral as familiar to Cockneys as St. Paul's, 
and, for the benefit of Wiesbaden, robbed 
Gravesend and Rosherville of their adorers. 
The steamers would have plied empty, but for 
a sprinkling of Germans travelling for business, 
not for pleasure. Where you did hear an Eng- 
lish word, the chances were that it was correct- 
ly aspirated, and had its due number of letters. 
There were no corpulent matrons nor wire- 
drawn old maids in fungus hats and clinging 
jackets and looped-up robes. There were no 
Msenades in miniature pork-pies and monstrous 
chignons, tartan petticoats, and tasselled boots ; 
no mountebanks in Tyrolese hats and eye-glass- 
es, courier-bags and gorgeous jewelry, velvet- 
een cutaways and knickerbockers advertising 
the missing calves that had slipped out of sight 
in the highlows. The stewards, albeit they had 
no need to bustle, looked harassed, as if from 
overwork, and, instead of treating you de haut en 
has, stooped to inquire for orders. There was 
no brazen band of music; only some solitary 
minstrel with flute or harmonium. No bugle 
sounded nor cannon fired to wake the echoes 
of the Lurlei ; no jingling of pianos came from 
open pension-windows at Konigswinter. If you 
had ever been wronged by bill or otherwise at 
the great hotels, your sense of wrong might 
have melted away in gentle pity. The head- 
waiter had no heart to order you away up to 
the eighth floor, on the time-honored principle 
of packing his house from the attics downward ; 
the idea of persuading you that such a happy 
consummation was possible would have been 
too absurdly audacious. The number of his 
subordinates was more in keeping with that of 
the clientele than of the spacious salons they 
lounged through ; few of them had emerged 
from jackets and early boyhood. In the towns, 
the landlord sat pensive in his sanctum; or, 
under the trellised boughs of his terrace in the 
country, he watched for guests who never came, 
and sipped his own coffee, in default of any one 
else to call for it. In cities like Cologne there 
might be a few passing men of business, and 
in the neighborhood of the great hospitals there 
were generally some tolerably well-to-do Kran- 
kenpfleger. But with their single dish and their 
temperate pint of white ordinaire, half of it left 
over to the next meal, how diff'erent from the 
reckless Britons, who used to feed freely in the 
vast bosoms of their families ; from the luxurious 
connoisseurs who dined en gargon, and command- 
ed in advance soignes little banquets and choice 
crus. It was most pitiful, perhaps, from a land- 
lord's point of view, in great rural estaiilishments 
like the Victoria at Bingen, where you trod the 



60 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



deserted banquet-halls and thought of the mobs 
you had seen there of summer evenings, actual- 
ly crowded out from the long tables within 
doors, round the small ones in the garden with- 
out. The Englischer Hof at Mayence, one of 
the very best houses on the river, by-the-way — 
ask for Laubenheimer of their own growing, if 
you desire to unite economy of drinking with 
excellence ; and the Europaischer Hof at Mann- 
heim : try ForsterKirchenstiicke, if you care for 
the powerfully bouqueted wine which sells for 
three times the money in England under the 
nickname of Johannisberg — were to a certain ex- 
tent exceptions. The former, indeed, was scai-ce- 
ly as full as it deserves to be, but the latter show- 
ed a muster of guests, nearly all German, that 
in number might have challenged rivalry with 
more fortunate years. To be sure, Mannheim 
is a centre of railway travel, as well as the start- 
ing-point of the steam companies for the lower 
Rhine and Holland. 

Even more desolate than the Rhine towns 
were the watering-places. You are so used to 
see them a perpetual swarm of life — still-life, 
perhaps, during the indolent siesta of the hot 
hours, but life always vigorous and always visi- 
ble. Now, at Wiesbaden, the shutters were up 
along the whole dismal front of the Vier Jah- 
reszeiten, and the Nassauer Hof was watching 
your movements drowsily out of a bare half 
dozen of open windows on one side of its door. 
The merchants in the arcades, male and female, 
after their sex, were smoking or flirting, or doing 
crochet or sleeping, or spelling out the newspa- 
pers. The arcades themselves were paced by 
a handful of maimed officers, probably ordered 
for health to the steaming fountains, and a few 
elderly citizens with their poodles and grand- 
children. On the garden front of the Kursaal, 
although it was high afternoon, there was no 
band in the kiosk, and few consommateurs at the 
cafe tables. With the exception of a stray 
American or so, these were Germans almost to 
a man, indulging in vulgar beer instead of cof- 
fee, ices, or absinthe. It was almost a surprise 
to hear the familiar rattle of the coin, and see 
the liveried sentries on duty at the side doors 
of the grand hall, just as they used to be. Whom 
in the world could they tempt to play in this 
dead-alive place ? or were the croupiers keeping 
their hand in and making a private game, as 
billiard-markers knock the balls about Avhen the 
table stands unhired ? Not at all. The rouge- 
et-noir, and I think the customary couple of 
roulette-tables, had the usual run on them, and 
the crowd clustei-ed round them to the full as 
thickly as it used to do. But a glance at those 
who filled the seats of honor, right and left of 



the croupier, told of the changed times. You 
missed not only the old familiar faces, but the 
old familiar style. There were none of the 
aristocratic elderly roues from Paris, Vienna, 
or St. Petersburg, with their sad, solemn, fag- 
ged, high-bred expression, going through their 
fixed hours of professional excitement with con- 
scientious determination. No beetle-browed 
Boyards from the Principalities. None of the 
demoralized old ladies in spectacles and mit- 
tens, who played so deep, until they seemed to 
have outlived passion and be superior to sen- 
sation ; nor of the younger ones, the lackered 
sirens in primrose-colored small sixes, who flung 
away other people's money with stoical equa- 
nimity. Instead of them, you had shady-look- 
ing Hebrews with silver rings on their thumbs 
and diamond-paste brooches in their frilled 
shirt-fronts ; cadaverous men who twirled a sol- 
itary two-florin piece in their fingers for a full 
quarter of an hour, before they decided to 
chance it for a two-days' dinner — or none at all. 
Females, jaded in face and garments, opened 
and shut strong-clasped portemonnaies between 
each small stake they risked desperately at long 
intervals, and who distrustfully denied their 
Gampish umbrellas to the afi^able menials who 
sought to relieve them of them. It was a " sil- 
ver hell" instead of one of gold and notes; 
gambling stripped of all its graces, and brazen- 
ing it out in its money-grubbing meanness. 
For, except the Hebrews, few there had super- 
fluities to risk ; and as the score or so of florins 
were raked into the bank after each of the deals, 
there was far more of baffled covetousness, dis- 
gust, and even despair, in the faces of the circle, 
than I have seen when the tables were having 
a grand field-night, and sweeping up the rou- 
leaux and the bank-notes by the rakeful. 

It was war-time, and the intelligence of the 
day not uninteresting, and yet the reading-room 
was well-nigh deserted. Of course the excite- 
ment of remote battle-fields has no chance with 
that of the neighboring gaming-tables ; the dis- 
tant roar of the guns by Metz was drowned in 
the chink of coin next door. Those who never 
ventured a florin in their lives make it a duty 
"to observe human nature," and go on un- 
weariedly observing it day after day. Those 
who denounce gaming find horror deepen with 
the sense of danger, as they find themselves ir- 
resistibly fascinated towards .he skirts of the 
fatal vortex. So the reading-room was nearly 
empty, and yet the journals were well worth the 
perusal. The French ones, in especial, were 
inimitable. It was not only their delightfully 
audacious mendacity, their supreme contempt 
for all consistency ; although the play of fancy 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



61 



in the columns devoted to official announcement 
and ' ' authentic " war intelligence utterly blank- 
ed the interest of the sensational romance in the 
feuilletons. It was the brilliant bouquet of pat- 
riotic epigram and dramatic episode that bright- 
ened their pages and dazzled their readers ; the 
Spartan utterances of gamins of the stamp of 
Gavroche reported verbatim, and of veteran war- 
riors in retreat, of maids, wives, mothers, and 
children, and all bearing the brand-new stamp 
of the same mint always hard at work turning 
out the daily supply. They were all so thor- 
oughly Parisian in their spirit, even when they 
came from the most remote departments, and 
each so hen trovato. The "Debats" and the 
" Siecle "might preserve some genuine dignity 
of deportment in face of tremendous national 
disaster. But the others attended scrupulously 
to the stage proprieties while the terrible trage- 
dy was culminating. They reminded you of 
Pope's lady rouging on her death-bed, or an el- 
derly coquette arranging her night-cap before 
risking herself on the fire-escape, except that 
while they cheered others on to the breach, they 
made themselves snug in the casemates. Cer- 
tainly French journalism has come even worse 
out of the war ordeal than French general- 
ship. 

At Hombourg, although I did not go there, 
M. Blanc, or his representative, was, as I under- 
stood, still offering the gaming world the advan- 
tages of their trente et quarante with the demi-re- 
fait and the i-oulette with the single zero, as per 
advertisement. At Baden - Baden the tables 
had been cleared away into lumber-rooms, in the 
absence of the French contingent that usually 
filled their owners' sti'ong boxes. The Tyro- 
lese or Swiss in the booths of the Vanity Fair 
before the Kursaal found even less to do than 
their brothers and sisters at Wiesbaden ; cha- 
mois horns, Bohemian glass, and model chalets 
hung heavily on hand. Among other necessa- 
ry economies, the administration had retrench- 
ed freely upon the English papers, and had lim- 
ited its subscription to the '' Pall Mall Gazette," 
" Galignani," and the "Daily Telegraph." 
The hotels were all open, it is true, but how 
their glory had departed ! There were three or 
four storm-stayed habitues at the L'Europe, pip- 
ing melancholy notes to be chorused forthwith 
by the rest, and wandering ghost-like round the 
scene of departed gayeties. There was no eat- 
ing in the garden restaurant of the Oos ; slight 
clinking of beer-glasses by the Alte Schloss and 
Schloss Eberstein. The gorgeous striped sun- 
blinds had been put away against better times, 
and even the lustre of the garish flower-beds 
seemed dimmed. It was very hard, upon a 



place, doomed at best so speedily to lose its 
surest lure, and yet the Badeners bore it like 
men. As I said, they managed to interest 
themselves in the fate of Strasbourg, and to re- 
lieve the wretchedness of its refugees. With 
rare exceptions, all that seemed left the hotel- 
keepers to prey upon, was an occasional wan- 
dering horde of Americans, each made up of 
several separate fathers and mothers, of nu- 
merous sons, and endless daughters of assorted 
sizes. In the midst of the prevailing solitude 
and dullness they seemed to have rolled up to- 
gether for mutual protection against moping ; 
and landlord, porter, and waiter, standing in 
their respective archways, hungrily eyed the 
long train of luggage-laden flies roll past their 
webs. But even those fortunate ones the trans- 
atlantic strangers favored had scarcely time to 
rejoice in their prize before it escaped them 
again. The Americans, finding nothing but the 
simple beauties of the Schwartzwald to tempt 
them to linger, travelled on even more hastily 
than their wont. How enjoy moderately rapid 
travel through Europe, when there was no Paris 
waiting for them, open-armed, to repay them 
for having gone creditably through their course 
of Murray, and bored themselves conscientious- 
ly to death with dull Nature ? Better a thou- 
sand times Saratoga and Newport. But it was 
melancholy to reflect how much we English 
could have done to lighten the burdens of the 
war and our own, had we only gone our annual 
way. How much flaying we should have been 
spared in English watering-places, how much 
scrambling and huddling in Highland inns. 



CHAPTER XV. 

GERMANY AND HEK NEIGHBORS. 

One leaves the scenes of the war with a deep 
conviction of the strength of new-born Germany. 
Possibly the tacit sense of it displayed by Ger- 
mans of every class may be contagious, and the 
imagination may be dazzled by the splendor of 
the German victories. But the more searching- 
ingly you scrutinize the grounds of your con- 
viction, the stronger it becomes. You watch 
the progress of a stupendous Power only in 
course of development, and you are lost in 
speculation as to when it may culminate, or 
where it shall find its limits. We are all fa- 
miliarized by this time with the details of the 
system that can practically mobilize the intel- 
ligence as well as the full force of the country 
— with the different classes of army proper, re- 
serve troops, Landwehr, and Landsturm. We 



G2 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAE. 



all understand something of that extraordinary 
organization that has become a by-word ; an or- 
ganization that forgets nothing and provides for 
every thing. We know how each corps works 
in entire independence of the others, although 
in absolute harmony with them. We know how 
things are ordered so that a single over-cum- 
brous machine shall not break down with its 
own weight in the working, while the central 
depot that feeds the war shall be easy of access 
and practically inexhaustible. We begin to 
learn something of a system the very reverse of 
our own, by which a people who know the value 
of money as well as most, go near assuring suc- 
cess, in the event of war, by what seems lavish 
expenditure on war material in time of peace. 
We see Science travelling in the rear of the 
armies, all ready to be called into consultation, 
and civil engineering prepared to play its part ; 
telegraphic and postal communications opened 
up to the positions that were stormed yesterday, 
and drilled corps of navvies laying railways round 
Metz, before the army in occupation there has 
made up its mind it is surrounded. 

Yet formidable as is the German power for 
offense in numbers, equipments, and resources, 
all these would relatively be the skeleton of 
strength, without the intelligence that pervades 
and the spirit that animates it. To begin with 
the humbler elements : look at its rank and 
file, at their military training, their civil educa- 
tion, and their enthusiasm. Those who have 
spared themselves the three years' careful train- 
ing in the strictest military school in the world, 
have only done so by giving satisfactory evidence 
that they have learned in twelve months sufS- 
cient to satisfy the requirements of exacting au- 
thority. Most of them men of a certain posi- 
tion and cultivation, they are almost too precious 
stuif to be sacrificed on ordinary service in the 
ranks, and the sending them to shoot and to 
be shot at by French peasants, to charge Russian 
emancipated serfs with the bayonet, is like cut- 
ting grindstones with razors. But precious as 
the material is, it pays the country to utilize it in 
the ranks. In the first place, as these men enjoy 
no special privileges in war-time, except the soli- 
tary one of carrying revolvers if they care to buy 
them, their presence inspires their comrades with 
the feeling of fraternity and equality in the best 
sense. In case of need, that feeling will be found 
a sovereign specific for those dangers from ex- 
treme democracy with which foreign republic- 
ans threaten aristocratic Germany. Then these 
young men are in readiness to fill up blanks 
among the subaltern officers just as casualties 
occur; an advantage hardly to be overrated 
when good leading is every thing, and in days 



when officers often suflfer out of all proportion 
to their men. 

About the training of the officers there can be 
no question. It may be too exclusively mili- 
tary to turn out masters in the belles-lettres. 
These gentlemen may have devoted themselves 
to military authors to the neglect of Erckmann- 
Chatrian, and contemporary French fiction. 
But that is, at least, no fault in estimating 
their value in a military point of view. Their 
attainments in military geography, and in 
French geography in particular, are unmistak- 
able. Nor could they have any excuse had 
they neglected the study, for every captain 
when he marched over the frontier was sup- 
plied with a map of France that would take a 
dumb pedestrian through the length and breadth 
of the land in entire independence of guides. 
But they not only profit by the thought and 
works of other people ; they learn to think in- 
dependently for themselves. 

Perhaps nothing gives a better idea of the 
qualities of the German troops than the doings 
of those terrible Uhlans. How audaciously 
have they pushed their reconnoitring ! how 
rarely have they been trapped ! That first re- 
connaissance that ended so tragically at Nie- 
derbronn was only a foretaste of all that was to 
follow. Nor was it a mere barren bravado. 
The dashing little party spied out all the scenes 
since made historical — Soultz, Woerth, Eeichen- 
hoffen. Since then the same sort of thing has 
been done over and over again ; done hundreds 
or thousands of times with equal courage, and 
perhaps less over-confidence. Men have been 
found by the hundred quite capable of taking 
the command of an expedition which, although 
only composed of half a dozen or a score of 
men, needed all the higher qualities of general- 
ship — dash, sagacity, promptitude of decision, 
and the capacity of changing rapidly matured 
plans in obedience to the spur of the moment. 
What must the leaders be who inspire blind 
confidence in men so thoroughly able to think 
and act for themselves ? 

In such an army, no wonder the discipline is 
as nearly perfect as discipline well can be. 
Apart from that system of requisitions which is 
governed by purely military considerations, and 
in no degree aifects my argument, what invasion 
ever left behind it fainter traces of its progress, 
or contributed fewer well-authenticated scandals 
to the history of its march ? Without reading 
evidence or listening to it, common sense is suffi- 
cient to dispose of the main accusations brought 
against it. For it must be conceded that the 
first idea of the authorities is the absolute eflS- 
ciency of the armies: the generals who cut 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAE. 



63 



down their own modest kits to a minimum, must 
be the last men to foster effeminacy, or tolerate 
excesses which every child knows to be the ruin 
of a force. Granting, for the sake of argument, 
that they may wink at liberties with larders, cel- 
lars, and cigar-boxes after a long fast and a hard , 
march, is it conceivable they should countenance 
an organized system of pillage ? Picture a Ger- 
man regiment who, at the risk of mortal sickness, 
are not suffered to burden themselves even with 
light tentes d'abri, staggering along under the 
hangings and carpets and mirrors we are as- 
sured they have carried off by wholesale ! We 
are told the officers set the example to their men. 
Imagine the captain of a company passing under 
the eyes- of the Staff on his way to the siege of 
Paris with a Claude Lorraine or a marble stat- 
uette tucked away under his arm ! Possibly the 
consideration of the authorities permitted the sus- 
pension of the transport of wounded, while the 
looters sent trains of spoil to the rear ; or per- 
haps they gave them leave of absence, that they 
might deposit their plunder in their homes, as 
the Highlanders used to do in the wars of Mon- 
trose and the Chevalier. It is not a pleasant 
subject, yet one would be curious to know when 
the gentleman who detected, by the smell, the 
presence of burning women and children in the 
smouldering ruins of Bazeille, became connois- 
seur in the odor of masculine, feminine, and in- 
fantine flesh. A cannibal connoisseur of the 
Sandwich Isles must have been puzzled. As 
for tales of insulted women, these have been 
flatly contradicted everywhere by impartial evi- 
dence, and they sound utterly incredible to those 
acquainted with the stuff and tone of the Ger- 
man armies. There are indifferent characters 
everywhere ; and there may have been occasional 
crimes perpetrated on the trail of the war, as 
there are every day in Belgravia and Tyburnia. 
But nowhere would injured innocence find read- 
ier champions than among the educated and 
married men who leaven so largely the German 
ranks ; and to suppose that commanding officers 
would tolerate the crimes we are told are per- 
petrated habitually, is to believe they are ready 
to sacrifice their own military reputation and the 
future of their country to the vices of a handful 
of scoundrels. We need scarcely feel surprised 
at the monstrous averments of Frenchmen smart- 
ing from defeat, when we see honest neutrals list- 
ening so credulously to extravagant calumny. 

The German army is strong, not only in in- 
tellect and discipline, but in spirit. People are 
slow to realize that the former weakness of Ger- 
many is now in reality one of the chief sources 
of her force. The jealousies and rivalries of the 
States of the old Bund may still survive. But 



the jealousy is of the military fame of the 
Prussians, and of their reputation for superior 
discipline ; the rivalry who shall show the most 
steadiness under murderous fire — who shall ex- 
hibit most elan in a desperate advance. The 
French journals fabled of Bavarians and Han- 
overians hemmed in and guarded by correspond- 
ing forces of Prussians in the line of battle. 
"Thus half the enemy are spies on the other 
half, " wrote the pleasant ' ' Figaro." As matter 
of fact, it is well-nigh inconceivable that a Han- 
overian or Bavarian corps should give way be- 
fore the enemy with Prussians looking on, of 
vice versa. More than that, as each man fights 
in the circle of his immediate neighbors, he must 
stand his ground, or be damned to local infamy 
as a coward. There are obvious objections to 
the plan, inasmuch as a single disastrous day 
may weed a district of its manhood ; but there 
can be no doubt it is a guaranty for a desperata 
resistance and a bloody butchery. Then, while 
the disposition of the allied forces gives full scope 
to the spirit of chivalrous emulation, all are 
moved by one iron hand, in obedience to one 
far-seeing brain. Von Moltke plays the great 
game as he goes, as you might work out the 
problem of a checkmate on a chess-board. He 
has his war map, with the flags and pins and 
the silken threads, and never yet has he made a 
false move on it. Chance may have served him, 
or incapacity played into his hands, but his sol- 
diers attribute it ail to skill ; and by consent the 
great German strategist is credited with the in- 
fallibility the Roman Pontiff sighed after in vain. 
Von Moltke does not seem much in the way of 
making mistakes, but he has such a fund of con- 
fidence to his credit that he has a wide margin 
to blunder on. Nor is there any reason to be- 
lieve that the issues of the war hang on his sin- 
gle life. His mantle would probably fall on 
shoulders worthy to wear it, and he would be- 
queath a legacy of experience for admiring pu- 
pils to profit by. The Crown Prince, Prince 
Frederick Charles, General Von Blumenthal, 
and many others, are generals, not puppets, and 
their souls are in the profession they devote 
themselves to, in season and out of season. It 
is no secret that when Prince Frederick Charles 
entertained a few soldier friends in Berlin, the 
amusement of the evening was the indication of 
a plan of campaign by one of the party, to be dis- 
cussed and criticised by the others. The result 
is — it can not be repeated too often — that the 
army thoroughly believes in its leaders, while 
the leaders do all that men can do to deserve 
the confidence of their men. 

The German organization has answered well, 
and yet, political development apart, the Ger- 



64 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAK. 



man army will probably enter on its next cam- 
paign on yet more advantageous terms. In the 
first place, I fancy there can be no question 
now as to the superiority of the Chassepot to 
the needle-gun, at least in the hands of the cool, 
imperturbable Teuton. It has greater lightness, 
and far superior precision at long ranges. Then 
all Germans confess now that the Mitrailleuse 
comes much nearer to the terrible weapon the 
French paraded in anticipation of the war than 
to the exploded bugbear which was sneered at 
after Forbach and Woerth. At Gravelotte and 
Rezonville it tore terrible gaps in the German 
ranks, and the consciousness of its being a mo- 
nopoly of the enemy might easily have demor- 
alized inferior troops. Moreover, whether we 
look forward to a comprehensive German em- 
pire or to an expansion of the North German 
Confederation in any future war, South Ger- 
many must necessarily contribute a stronger 
and more highly-disciplined contingent. 

One would be almost tempted to blind admi- 
ration of the German organization as it stands, 
were it not for one obvious weakness. Every 
thing seems calculated on the assumption of 
certain and rapid success. It is all very well 
sending troops into the field in summer with no 
protection but their cloaks ; but what if you have 
a drenching season, and if defeats and checks 
prolong the campaign into winter ? What if 
cholera, and typhus, and dysentery fairly get 
the upper hand? What of a Russian campaign, 
for instance — if Russia chose to provoke the war 
in late autumn ? It is true, all precautions in 
the way of ample supplies, and all specifics in 
the shape of medicines and dispensary stores, 
are taken against these diseases. But that very 
luxury of heavy wagons would be a serious em- 
barrassment in the event of a retreat ; while a 
tremendous disaster seems actually courted by 
dispensing with tentes cTabri, and attaching im- 
portance so excessive to extremely light march- 
ing order. Yet, whatever be the advantages or 
disadvantages of the present system, it is. un- 
questionable that, before another war, experi- 
ence will have made up its mind and finally 
struck the balance between them. 

Germany is almost dangerously strong, and 
she will be stronger. One comfort is, she is 
essentially a Conservative power, and bound 
over by the very conditions of her strength to 
exert it with moderation. She can use it when 
it is a question of self-preservation, or when the 
national mind is stirred to its depth ; to abuse 
it would be suicidal, if not impracticable. She 
is not likely to paralyze her progress and con- 
vulse her whole social system, that she may go to 
war for an idea. No amount of withered laurel- 



] leaves would repay her the blood and treasure 
she must expend in gathering them ; and she 
has no wish to garrison hostile territory, and 
undertake the perilous task of taming strange 
and uncongenial races. And there is this fea- 
ture in heV strength, that the more she is threat- 
ened from without, the more she hardens. Any 
thing in the way of harmony and unity that the 
French war may leave incomplete, an aggres- 
sive coalition would assuredly perfect. If she 
were threatened by socialism or rapid republic- 
anism, they would be hopelessly crippled for 
mischief by the tender of foreign aid, if they were 
not stifled by the national common sense. The 
other day, when her armies were marshalling for 
this national war, the high-handed Bismarck, 
the darling of the Junkers, met round a quiet 
family dinner-table the men condemned in '48 
to death and dungeons, and reactionist and rev- 
olutionist cordially touched their glasses as they 
pledged the health of their common country. 
So it would happen again at the first note of 
defiance to the Fatherland they are all devoted 
to. 

■ The danger of Germany, the danger to her 
neighbors, so far as she is concerned, is that 
paramount passion of nationality, that makes 
sage Germans lose their heads wherever Ger- 
mans are concerned. "Das Deutsche Vater- 
land " is the German " Marseillaise." I would 
trust her with Belgium or Poland, if all Europe 
were disarmed, and she had only to step over 
the frontier to annex them. I should be sorry 
to answer for her, even after the drain of this 
bloody struggle, if it were a question of cham- 
pioning Teutons in the Baltic Provinces of Rus- 
sia, or repelling advances from the hereditary 
states of Austria. Hardly a German but is 
honestly persuaded that the Danish war was 
a holy one ; and if there were big battalions on 
the side of the fancied oppressors, I can con- 
ceive a state of exaltation where the danger 
would be an additional inducement to the cru- 
sade. The house of Hapsburg has lost much 
lately, and I have no pretension to cast its hor- 
oscope. But I can not conceive myself that, 
sooner or later, its German subjects can help 
gravitating to the Fatherland — a destiny to be 
precipitated inevitably by any Austrian declara- 
tion of war. I can not imagine that a great 
German empire should be any thing but a men- 
ace to the tranquillity of the Czars, so long as 
they have German subjects they are laboring to 
Russianize. Even if they treated these subjects 
with all conceivable consideration, I should be 
sorry to answer for their not finding themselves 
in very hot water, with a choice between the 
frying-pan of propagandism and the fire of war. 



ON THE TEAIL OE THE WAR. 



65 



And it is just possible that, by force or by treaty, 
Germany may be over-impulsive in appropriating 
mixed populations— in the Baltic, for example, 
or in Bohemia — and may thus stick thorns in 
her sides that may cause her trouble later. 

There are shoals that German statesmanship 
and good sense may steer her clear of. I mere- 
ly indicate them now, because they must inevi- 
tably influence the present attitude of neutrals. 
Say what they will, it is not possible that Rus- 
sia or Austria can regard otherwise than with 
apprehension the marvellous aggrandizement 
of their neighbor and rival. So far as Russia 
is concerned, independently of that other con- 
sideration I have in-ged, she must know Ger- 
many will never suffer her to go to the mouth 
of the Danube. The truth is, of the great 
Powers there is but one veritable neutral just 
now, and that is England. It is hardly con- 
ceivable German interests or ambition can clash 
with ours. It is certain the interests of the two 
countries are often identical. If we were to 
name the causes likely to embroil us on the 
Continent, we should say, of course, a French 
occupation of Belgium and a Russian advance 
towards Constantinople. The former Germany 
will never tolerate, nor can Russia offer her any 
thing worth acceptance to buy her assent to the 
latter. Assuming Germany, in her expansion, 
should ever absorb Austria proper, it is probable 
European opinion would be inclined to let the 
Hapsburgs compensate themselves on the side 
of Turkey ; the governing Ottomans would re- 
cross to Asia, and we should see a Christian 
Power that gave us no cause for umbrage garri- 
soning Constantinople, and holding the castles 
of the Bosphorus against the Russian fleets. 
Nay, although any thoroughly friendly under- 
standing between ourselves and our Amei-ican 
cousins may seem wildly chimerical, is it not 
just possible that a cordial understanding with 
Germany may bear fruit across the Atlantic, 
through the mediation of German-Americans ? 
In any case and for every reason, our political 
sympathies ought to be with Germany now ; and 
if they are so, is it not a solemn duty to let 
them speak aloud ? If we think the German 
claims not unreasonable, only in fact what Ger- 
many may fairly ask, is it any i-eason why we 
should suppress our opinion, because her patri- 
otism, her efforts, and her sacrifices have been 
crowned with startling success ? Certainly we 
can not be suspected of wishing unnecessarily 
to weaken France ; for, whatever we may hope 
of Germany, there is no answering for every 
contingency, and she is too strong already for 
prudence to care to see her stronger. But if 
we rely on German moderation, and distrust the 
5 



natural resentment of humbled France ; if we 
believe, by right of sacrifice and of conquest, 
she has established a fair title to the military 
frontier she would erect against a repetition of 
this wanton aggression — if we believe all that, 
in our character of really disinterested neutrals 
— are we not bound to say so ? 

At the same time — holding, as I do, that Ger- 
many's growth is England's safety, that her 
mighty resources are in a manner our own, 
that, where Germans are not in question, her 
feeling is essentially Conservative, and her 
strength purely defensive — it is impossible to 
look sanguinely to the future, or to hope the 
coming peace may mean the advent of the mil- 
lennium. We can not expect that the neigh- 
bors who feel themselves overshadowed by her 
rise, and menaced indirectly by her greatness, 
will trust themselves to her moderation, or re- 
sign her the dictatorship of Europe. And if 
not, and if they contemplate possible war in a 
future more or less remote, what is to limit their 
armaments ? If Russia, for example, or France 
under its next master, in the teeth of difficulties, 
were to adopt the German system, it would be 
an irresistible temptation to absolute power to 
abuse it for personal ambition. If they expand 
their standing armies, where is expansion, with 
its train of expenses, to stop ? Those mighty 
armaments of the Second Empire that clogged 
so heavily the progress of Fi'ance, collapsed at 
once in contact with half-organized Germany, 
and in their numerical strength proved utterly 
inadequate. What, we may ask, might have 
been the chiffres that would have made success 
matter of certainty, or even of possibility ? We 
may be sure, Germany will never consent to lay 
aside the harness she wears so lightly in peace- 
time ; and, in presence of that silent provoca- 
tion, what, we ask, must be the attitude of her 
neighbors ? 



SUPPLEMENTARY CHAPTER. 



WEISSENBURG, WOBRTH, SEDAN. 

From the first — after the too precipitate dec- 
laration of war — hesitation was the evil genius 
of the French Emperor and his marshals. 
Taken by surprise by an act of state, Prussia 
was allowed time to mobilize her vast forces 
and seize the initiative, before Napoleon was 
ready to strike a blow. The French army was 
to be ready for the march to the Rhine by the 
20th of July at the latest ; but the 20th of July 
came, and nothing had been done. Nine days 
afterwards — nine days spent in preparations that 



6'6 



ON THE TRAIL OP THE WAR. 



should have been made before the declaration 
of war — the Emperor took tardy command at 
Metz, and the world looked for an immediate 
advance. There was still time, as apjieared 
later, for the march to the Rhine ; yet the 
army did not move. Hesitation appears to have 
gone so far that the Emperor could not deter- 
mine whether to attack at all, or to take up a 
position for defense. The heads of the German 
columns were already converging from all di- 
rections towards the Palatinate, and every day 
they might be expected to attack. Yet the 
French remained in their positions on the fron- 
tier — positions designed for an attack which was 
never made, and altogether unfit for the defense 
which was so soon to be their only choice. 

This fatal hesitation was accompanied by tac- 
tical blunders of the most extraordinary char- 
acter. The French army, placed close to the 
frontier, was without advanced guards at the 
proper distance in front of the main body ; but 
there were two ways in which a bold command- 
er might have remedied this defect. The ad- 
vanced guards might have been pushed forward 
into German territory, or the main body of the 
French army might have been withdrawn a day's 
march into the interior, leaving the guards on 
the frontier. But neither Napoleon nor his 
marshals were ready to run the risk of actual 
collisions with the enemy involved in the first 
plan, nor bold enough to face the political con- 
sequences of an apparent retreat before the first 
battle was fought, and they seem to have thought 
that the Germans would imitate their inactivity. 
So hesitation was still the order of the day, and 
priceless time, priceless to both sides alike, was 
wasted by the French, and employed by the 
German commanders in preparing for that series 
of masteiiy movements that has crushed the 
.military power of France and laid her, humili- 
ated, at the feet of her adversary. On the 4th 
of August, before the whole of their forces had 
reached the frontier, the German commanders 
resolved to take advantage of the faulty dispo- 
sition of the French. The sharp battle of Weis- 
senburg forced the whole of M'Mahon's and 
Failly's corps to a still greater distance from 
the centre of the position ; and on the 6th, being 
now fully prepared, the Third German Army de- 
feated M'Mahon's six divisions at Woerth, and 
drove him, along with Failly's remaining two 
divisions, by Saverne towards Luneville, while 
the advanced bodies of their First and Second 
Armies beat Frossard's and part of Bazaine's 
troops at Spicheren, and drove the whole centre- 
and left of the French back upon Metz. Thus 
all Lorraine lay between the two retreating 
French armies, and into this wide gap poured 



the German cavalry and, behind it, the infantry, 
in order to make the most of the advantage 
gained. As soon as the defeated troops were 
driven so far south that they could regain the 
main army under Bazaine only by a long and 
circuitous rout^p, the victorious pursuers, march- 
ing straight on Nancy, kept continually between 
the two, and prevented their union. 

The Emperor now resigned his command into 
the hands of Marshal Bazaine, who might cer- 
tainly have known that his adversary would not 
let the grass grow under his feet. Yet the same 
hesitation that proved the ruin of M'Mahon 
was exhibited in Bazaine's movements. The 
main body of his army was at and around For- 
bach. The distance from this j)lace to Metz is 
not quite fifty miles. Most of the corps had 
less than thirty miles to march. Three days 
would have brought all of them safely under 
shelter beneath the walls of the strong fortress ; 
and on the fourth the retreat towards Verdun 
and Chalons might have been begun. For there 
could no longer be any doubt as to the necessity 
of that retreat. Marshal M'Mahon's eight di- 
visions and General Douay's remaining two di- 
visions — 'more than one-third of the army — 
could not possibly rejoin Bazaine at any nearer 
point than Chalons. Bazaine had twelve divis- 
ions, including the Imperial Guard ; so that 
even after he had been joined by thi'ee of Can- 
robert's divisions, he can not have had, with cav- 
alry and artillery, above 180,000 men — a force 
quite insufiicient to meet his opponents in the 
field. Unless, therefore, he intended to aban- 
don the whole of France to the invaders, and to 
allow himself to be shut up in a place where 
famine, as the event has shown, would soon com- 
pel him to surrender or to fight on terms dic- 
tated by the enemy, it seems as though he could 
not have had a moment's doubt about retreating 
from Metz at once. Yet he did not stir. On 
the 11th, the German cavalry was at Luneville; 
still he gave no sign of moving. On the 12tlx 
they were across the Moselle ; they made requisi- 
tions in Nancy, they tore up the railway between 
Metz and Frouard, they showed themselves in 
Pont-a-Mousson. On the 13th their infantry 
occupied Pont-a-Mousson, and were thenceforth 
masters of both banks of the Mosejle. At last, 
on Sunday, the 14th, Bazaine began moving his 
men to the left bank of the river ; an engage- 
ment at Pange was drawn on, by which the re- 
treat was again retarded. On Monday, the 15th, 
the actual retreat towards Chalons was com- 
menced by sending off the heavy trains and ar- 
tillery ; but on that Monday the German caval- 
i-y were across the Mouse at Commercy, and 
within ten miles of the French line of retreat 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



67 



at Vigneulles. The sequel of this unparalleled 
series of blunders was the capitulation of Metz. 

The mismanagement which cost the French 
so dear at Woerth and Weissenburg was even 
surpassed by that which attended the ill-fated 
movement of M'Mahon's army from Chalons 
towards Sedan, to relieve Bazaine, who had al- 
lowed himself to he cooped up in Metz. To 
effect this hazardous flank march with safety, 
watched by so vigilant a foe as Prussia, M'Ma- 
hon should have had a thoroughly disciplined 
and well-appointed army, capable of meeting 
the enemy upon something like equal terms. 
Instead of this, he led a mob composed of de- 
moralized fugitives from half a dozen defeats, 
and raw levies, most of whom had never handled 
a rifle. The camp at Chalons was abundantly 
supplied with provisions ; but he departed in 
such haste that only a few biscuits were served 
out to each soldier, with the expectation that 
an army of over a himdred thousand men 
could be subsisted on the country through 
which they were to march. The consequences 
were such as might have been foreseen. A day 
or two sufiiced to exhaxist the supply of biscuits, 
and the soldiers were left to shift for them- 
selves. Discipline was relaxed. The country 
was filled with stragglers. According to the 
diary of a French officer, from which these par- 
ticulars are taken, the troops received no regu- 
lar rations for six days, but foraged on an al- 
ready exhausted country. Meanwhile the pur- 
suit was pressed with vigor ; and in all their 
encounters with the enemy, the French fought 
under circumstances the most disheartening to 
soldiers. 

Nor was this all. Added to the pangs of 
hunger and other discomforts, there was a fatal 
neglect of discipline. The rnai'ch was like the 
retreat of a defeated and disorganized army. 
We are told that corps and divisions marched 
by themselves, and that there was no concert of 
action among the superior officers, who indeed 
were generally not on hand when their presence 
was most wanted. The diary gives an instance 
when, after a long and severe engagement, on 
the 29th of August, the Fifth Corps marched 
the whole of the night without food or rest. 
The passage is as follows : 

" August 30. — We arrived at Beaumont, a 
hilly and woody country, at 4 a.m. The men 
are utterly exhausted by the march, by hunger, 
and above all by want of sleep. There is no pos- 
sibility of bringing order into the ranks. The 
presence of the generals was indispensable, but 
none of them was to be seen on the spot, and the 
soldiers fell down asleep, Avithout guards, with- 
out a single sentry. The sight was most lament- 
able," 



From this disorderly and unguarded bivouac, 
they were roused a few hours later by the thun- 
der of Prussian cannon. The scene that fol- 
lowed is thus described in the diary : 

' ' The whole camp seizes its arras in disorderly 
fashion ; the officers do their best to give some 
kind of organization to the first movements ; the 
artillery is soon at work, and the battle begins. 
But a tremendous panic arises in the village, 
crowded with unai'med soldiers, who were gone 
from the camp in search of provisions. A fran- 
tic rush begins in the direction of Mouzon ; and 
the flying mass would naturally have drawn with 
it a part of the troops already in line on this side 
of the village, if the officers had not intervened, 
pistols in hand. The generals, just as much sur- 
prised as the troops, presently come to their 
senses. They take the command. The retreat 
is gradually oi'ganized, and on reaching rather el- 
evated ground we come out from under the in- 
tolerable fire. " 

A striking contrast to this picture of imbe- 
cility and demoralization is presented by the 
Prussian army in pursuit. While M'Mahon 
was gathering his forces at Chalons, those Prus- 
sian corps not required before Metz had contin- 
ued to advance in a western direction, and the 
Third Army, under the command of the Crown 
Prince of Prussia, which had been steadily 
pushing on, now proceeded with greater rapidi- 
ty. Says the German official report of the 
operations that resulted in the battle of §edan : 

" In its onward march it was accompanied by 
a new army, formed of a portion of the forces 
under Prince Frederick Charles, and placed under 
the Crown Prince of Saxony. Both these armies, 
the latter of which consisted of tlie Guards and 
Fourth and Twelfth Corps d'Armee, marched in 
the direction of Paris. It would have been de- 
cidedly desirable if they had found their way 
blocked up by the French, and if a battle could 
have been fought on the road to the capital. 
Marshal M'Mahon might have awaited us in a 
strong position or under the very ramparts of 
Paris. Another course open to him was to as- 
sume the offensive, with a view to rescue General 
Bazaine. As much depended upon our ascer- 
taining the intentions of the enemy as soon as 
possible, our cavalry were sent far in advance of 
the army to watch his movements. Up to the 
24th of August the Marshal held the Camp of 
Chalons. The two Prussian armies, not allow- 
ing their advance to be delayed by the fortifica- 
tions of Verdun, marched straight on, and had 
already reached the line Clermont- Vitry, when, 
just as they were concentrating preparatory to 
the attack upon Ch§,lons, news arrived on the 
25th which rendered it probable that M'Mahon 
had evacuated his camp. He was reported to 
have taken the road to Rheims. One of the in- 
ferences to be deduced from this was that, picking 
his way along the narrow strip of land between 
the Belgian frontier and the right wing of the 
Crown Prince of Saxony, the Marshal might pos- 
sibly attempt to relieve Metz. It was evident 
that if the proper measures were taken instanta- 



68 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



neously by us, the Marshal would find it very dif- 
ficult to succeed in his enterprise. Accordingly, 
our advance upon Paris was suspended on the 
night of the 25th. On the 26th, the 8^th Corps 
d'Armee, which had been marching west, effect- 
ed a change of front, and, turning north, pre- 
pared to intercept the enemy on his march along 
our flank. The difficulties of this movement 
were increased by our march lying partly through 
the Argonne forest. Care was, moreover, taken 
to prevent the enemy from falling back upon 
Paris, in case he should find it impossible to pen- 
etrate to Metz. Supposing our being able to sui-- 
round M'Mahon he would be obliged to fight un- 
der the most unfavorable conditions, or to find 
safety for his army in Belgium. 

' ' The Corps Vinoy not having as yet ariived, we 
had a great numerical superiority over the French, 
then estimated at about 120,000 ; but it was not 
so easy for us to bring up our forces in time to 
use them. While our troops were approaching 
from a considerable distance it became certain 
that M'Mahon had really a flank-march in view. 
On the 29th his four corps were stationed on the 
two roads from Le Chene to Stenay, two being 
echelonnes on each. On that day our troops ex- 
tended from Grand Pre to Stenay, our van being 
in front of the enemy. The Twelfth Corps 
d'Armee, by the engagement at Nouart, prevent- 
ed the most easterly division of the French from 
continuing its march. Under these circumstances, 
Marshal M'Mahon had only to choose between 
fighting on the left or the right bank of the 
Meuse, in which latter case he would be able to 
profit by the vicinity of Sedan. He chose the 
latter alternative, and on the 30th of August be- 
gan to cross the Meuse. Before his retreat could 
be efl'ected, his left wing was attacked by the 
Crown Prince of Saxony at Beaumont, and his 
rear surprised at Mouzon. The French Corps 
sent to tlie rescue of the latter force suffered 
much in crossing the river in presence of our 
troops. What followed is kno^vn. We may add 
that, from what has recently come to light, M'Ma- 
hon's army was not 120,000 strong, as had been 
supposed, but very nearly 150,000." 

The story of the great battle that followed, 
known as the battle of Sedan, which decided 
the fate of the Empire, is thus described by the 
German official account, dated at Donchery, 
September 2d : 

"After the engagement of August 30, it be- 
came probable that the French Arme'e du Nord 
was fast approaching a final catastrophe. On the 
evening of the 80th, the enemy, after a sharp can- 
nonade against the 4th Prussian Corps d'Armee 
and portions of the Bavarian corps, had been 
obliged to retreat from Mousson. The greater 
part of the German army on that day remained 
on the left bank of the Meuse ; but the forces un- 
der the Crovra Prince of Saxony, having partly 
crossed the river, advanced beyond Mouzon in the 
direction of Carignan and Sedan . Our Third Army 
executed the following movements on the 31st : 
The First Bavarian Corps marched by Raucourt 
to Remilly. The Eleventh Prussians proceeded 
ft-om Stonne to Chemery and Cheveuse, with or- 
ders to stop on the left bank of the Meuse, and 
encamp opposite Donchery, a little town on the 



other side of the river. The Fifth Prussian Corps 
followed the Eleventh, and the Second Bavarian 
the First. The Wiirtembergers likewise moved 
on to the Meuse by way of Vendresse and Bou- 
tencourt. The routes prescribed to the difterent 
portions of the Third Army thus converged on 
Sedan, where the French Northern Army was 
concentrated. The task given us was to surround 
the enemy and compel him either to surrender or 
to retreat beyond the Belgian frontier. The lat- 
ter contingency being considered very possible, 
the order of the day of the 30th contained a pas- 
sage to the effect that in the event of the French 
not being immediately disarmed on the other side 
of the border, our troops were to follow them into 
Belgium without delay. 

" The 31st passed without any remarkable en- 
counter. Only at Remilly the First Bavarian 
Corps fell in with the enemy, and, driving him 
back after a prolonged caimonade, in the course 
of the forenoon approached the Meuse. This 
operation, the most important of the 31st, was 
watched by the Crown jprince with his staft' from 
a height close by the church of the village of 
Stonne. His Royal Highness, who had arrived 
from the camp at Pierremont at 9 a.m., from this 
point saw a portion of the valley of Remilly be- 
fore him. The engagement having come to an 
end, the Crown Prince repaired to Chemery, there 
to take up his quarters for the night. The Sec- 
ond Bavarian Corps and the Wiirtembergers had 
no difficulty in carrying out their orders. The 
Fifth Prussian Coi-ps, which went by Chemery, 
and there defiled past the Commander-in-Chief, 
did not reach its allotted position before a late 
hour in the evening. Before the morning of the 
1st of September dawned every thing was com- 
plete. The troops on the left bank of the Meuse, 
and especially the Guards, stood ready to cross ; 
those on the right, under the Crown Prince of 
Saxony, were only waiting for orders to assume 
the offensive, and from one end of our position to 
the other we were able to close in on Sedan at 
the shortest notice. 

" It was originally intended to put off the deci- 
sive blow to September 2d. It seemed desirable to 
give a day's rest to the Saxon army, which had 
undergone considerable fatigue in their forced 
marches on the 30th and 31st. But when the 
King, between 5 and 6 o'clock in the afternoon 
of the 31st, passed Chemery on his way to Ven- 
dresse, he held a consultation with the Crown 
Prince and Generals Moltke and Blumenthal, in 
consequence of which he determined that the at- 
tack of Sedan, and the French lines between the 
Meuse and the Ardennes, should be undertaken 
on the ensuing day. Towards 1 a.m., of Septem- 
ber 1, the Crown Prince of Saxony received or- 
ders to advance. Fire was to be opened at 5 a.m. 

"Our line of battle was formed in thiswise: 
On our right we had the army of the Crown 
Prince of Saxony. His van consisted of the 
Twelfth Corps d'Armee ; next came the Fourth 
and the Guards, the rear being brought up by the 
Fourtli Division of Cavalry, with their back to 
Remilly. Those troops of the Crown Prince of 
Saxony still on the left bank of the Meuse cross- 
ed at Douzy. To the left of his army Avas sta- 
tioned the First Bavarian Corps, and behind this 
the Second. The Bavarians threw their bridge 
opposite the village of Bazeilles. The Pjleventh 
Prussian Corps had placed its pontoons during 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



69 



the night about lODO paces below Doncheiy. A 
little to the left crossed the Fifth Corps on anoth- 
er bridge, and still farther in the same direction, 
near the village of Dorn-le-Mesnil, the Wiirtem- 
bergers. The Sixth Corps, as a reserve, was 
stationed between Attigny and Le Chene. To 
these troops were opposed the corps of M'Mahon, 
Failly, Canrobert, the remnants of Douay'sarmy, 
and the newly-formed Twelfth Corps under Gen- 
f eral Lebrun. The centre of the French position 
was the fortress of Sedan, their flanks extending 
from Givonne on the left to Mezieres on the right. 
In the rear of the French position were seen the 
' spurs of the Ardennes. 

" The Crown Prince left Chemery in his car- 
riage at 4 A.M. Having mounted his horse near 
Cheveuse, on the road to Donchery, he took up his 
position on a hill projecting over the valley of the 
Meuse, near the town of Donchery, not far from 
a small mansion called Chateau Donchery. From 
this point the whole array of the German army 
could be surveyed, and the progress of the battle 
watched in all directions. 

"Sedan is situate at one of the finest points 
of the valley of the Meuse. Hills crowned with 
forests rise in terraces on either side of the river. 
On the right bank there is a narrow strip of 
meadow-land by the water-side : on the left, a 
little to the left of Sedan, is an open plain, with 
the town of Donchery pleasantly situated in its 
centre. The plain is traversed by a slight eleva- 
tion. To the right the river Meuse makes a 
double curve, inclosing a strip of land on which 
lies the village of Iges, with Villette to the left, 
and Glaize to the right. Between. Iges and Se- 
dan there is Floing, and farther to the right Gi- 
vonne on the right bank. The main road be- 
tween Doncherry and Sedan proceeds from a 
bridge at the former city, and half-way touches 
the village of Frenoy. Bazeilles, which was op- 
posite to the Bavarians, is south-west of Sedan ; 
Douzy, where the Guards crossed, on the extreme 
right. 

" A dense fog covered the valley and the hills. 
Only at 7^ a.m. the sun broke through the 
clouds, when the day became hot and sultry. 
The army of the Crown Prince of Saxony began 
operations a little after 5 o'clock. At 6^ a con- 
tinuous cannonade was heard on our right, some- 
what in the rear of Sedan, indicating the left 
flank of the enemy to have been attacked by our 
troops. But the French were in excellent posi- 
tion on the hills, and could not be so easily dis- 
lodged. While the fight was going on in this lo- 
cality, our left wing prepared to turn the other 
flank of the enemy. The Eleventh Corps pro- 
ceeded along the slight elevation in the midst of 
the plain ; the Fifth marched straight on to get to 
the enemy's rear. According to the plan of the 
battle, these corps were eventually to effect a junc- 
tion with our right mng, and, entirely surround- 
ing the enemy, to cut off his retreat towards the 
Ardennes. The Wiirtembergers and the 4th Cav- 
alry Division, subsequently sent to their support, 
were to protect the plain in case the enemy should 
push forward in this direction, which, however, 
was not very probable, as he would have found it 
difficult to cross the Meuse, and indeed had him- 
self destroyed the railway bridge between Don- 
chery and Sedan. At 9j the Eleventh Corps 
d'Arme'e had so far turned the enemy's flank as 
to come close upon Ms position. An increased 



fire of the batteries marked this moment. The 
Saxons, who had designedly reseiwed their 
strength for this contingency, now attacked with 
an overpowering shock. Shortly after the right 
wing of the French began to fall back, but only 
to find themselves in the iron embrace of the two 
Prussian corps in their rear. At the point where 
the Eleventh Coi-ps descended from the hills upon 
the surprised enemy the resistance of the Fi-ench 
sensibly diminished since 10|-. In some places, 
especially at Iges and on the fields leading do^vIl 
to Sedan, the fight assumed a desperate character. 
Being chiefly attacked by artfllery, the French 
sent their horse to charge our guns in flank. 
The French cavahy made two brilHant onslaughts, 
some regiments, and, above all, the Chasseurs 
d'Afrique, behaving with the utmost gallantry. 
The infantry gave way earlier, the number of 
those battalions which surrendered without fur- 
ther resistance being considerable even before 12 
o'clock. In the mean time the Fifth Corps had 
performed the long distance to the extreme 
heights, and after a sharp encounter succeeded 
in driving back the detachments making for the 
Ai'dennes. 

' ' Things now assumed a favorable aspect. At 
12^ it was announced that the French reserve ar- 
tillery, which the Emperor had opposed to our 
Fifth Corps, was repulsed, and that only a few 
scattered bodies of infantry had effected their re- 
treat across the frontier. Flight being thus ren- 
dered impossible, we had to deal only with the 
central portion of the battle-field — the slight ele- 
vation crossing the plain, the hills stretching 
from it to Sedan, and the fortress itself, which 
formed the last refuge for the troops driven from 
the heights. Since 12f , the fire of the Prussian 
batteries on the right and left wings so rapidly 
approached one another that it was evident the 
enemy would soon be completely surrounded. 
It was a grand sight to watch the sure and irre- 
sistible advance of the Guards, marching on, on 
the left wing, partly behind and partly by the 
side of the Twelfth Corps d'Armee. Since 10;^ 
the Guards, preceded by their artillery, had been 
pushing towards the wood to the left of Sedan. 
By the advancing smoke of their fire we noticed 
how fast they were gaining gi'ound. 

" They were effectively assisted by the Bava- 
rians. After a smart resistance by the French, 
the Bavarians had stormed Bazeilles, which was 
burned. They then took Balan, south-west of 
Sedan, where a narrow gorge gave them much 
trouble. Towards noon they posted two batteries 
in a meadow to the left of the road to Sedan. 
From this point they fired on Villette, the spire 
of which was soon enveloped in flames. The 
French artillery having been compelled to yield 
at this point likewise, there was nothing to stop 
the Eleventh and Twelfth Corps from pressing 
forward in the direction of Sedan. The enemy 
was now hastening to make good his retreat to 
the fortress walls. While the fight was still go- 
ing on, large numbers of prisoners were seen be- 
ing led down the hills to the plain. 

"In the mean time the Guards, a little before 
2 o'clock, had effected a junction with the Fifth 
Corps, on the slopes in the distance. This 
closed the circle around the French. Encom- 
passed by a living wall, they found themselves 
thrust back within the ramparts of their small 
stronghold. 



70 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



" Here and there villages and hamlets were still 
burning. Small detachments were continuing 
the fight in isolated localities, and the roar of 
cannon had not yet entirely ceased, A little la- 
ter there was a pause, when we waited for the 
French commanders to resolve on what they had 
better do in their embarrassed position. If they 
determined on prolonged resistance, the fate of 
Sedan was sealed. 

"Towards 4 o'clock the Crown Prince sent 
the message ' Complete victory ' to head-quarters. 
Immediately after. His Royal Highness, with the 
Duke of Coburg, the other Princes, and the 
orderly officers, proceeded to the Eng, who had 
halted during the day on a hill to the right of 
the heights of Donchery. As there was no white 
flag to be seen on the tower of Sedan, we re- 
sumed firing at 4^. The Bavarian batteries sent 
the first shots into the fortress. "Within a quar- 
ter of an hour one of our igniting grenades set 
the place on fire. A straw shed having caught 
light, dense black smoke rose immediately to the 
sky. Upon this the enemy opened negotiations. 
The Crown Prince was still with the Eng, when 
news arrived that the Emperor Napoleon was in 
Sedan. We now became aware that we had not 
only crushed the principal army of the French, 
but also, in a twelve hours' fight, secured a guar- 
anty for the victorious issue of the war. 

" That same evening the Prussian Lieutenant- 
colonel Von Brousart, the officer intrusted with 
the negotiations on our part, brought the King 
an autograph letter from the Emperor of the 
French, now a prisoner of war. It contained 
these few words : ' Comme je n'ai pas pu mourir 
au milieu de mon armee^ je rends mon epee a voire 
Majeste.' It is a fact that Napoleon, when he 
became aware of the probable result of the bat- 
tle, for four hours stood the fire of our grenades 
near the village of Iges. The Emperor remain- 
ed the night at Sedan. The capitulation will be 
concluded to-day. 

' ' Not till 9 o'clock did the Crown Prince re- 
turn to his head-quarters. The company of the 
58th, which had been acting since yesterday as 
convoy, the staff-guard, and all attached to his 
head-quarters, vied with each other in giving the 
Commander of the Third Army a festal recep- 
tion. The main street of the village was illumi- 
nated, and the soldiers who lined the way, in de- 
fault of better materials, held small ends of tal- 
low candles in their hands. Loud hurrahs wel- 
comed the arrival of His Royal Plighness. The 
bands struck up the German national anthem, and 
then played the Dead March in honor of the fallen. 

"When the troops returned from the battle-field 
they evinced the greatest eagerness to ascertain 
the details of the action. It was obvious they 
had realized the importance of the day, and were 
proud of having contributed to a victory which 
will react on the history of the world, and has 
few to equal it in the annals of our countiy." 

A French version of the circumstances lead- 
ing to the surrender of M'Mahon's army is 
given in the following statement made imme- 
diately after the battle to the correspondent of 
a New York journal by a member of the Em- 
peror's staff, who was present with him at the 
battle, and whose official position afforded the 



best opportunity for acquaintance with the 
facts : 

" At 5 A. M. on the morning of the battle of 
Sedan, my informant, who slept at a hotel in the 
town, was suddenly roused by a loud noise in the 
street beneath his window. On looking out he 
found the Emperor and his suite passing along. 
He dressed in great haste, and was soon with 
the staff', from whom he learned that the battle 
of the two previous days had begun afresh at 
6|- A.M. Marshal M'Mahon was brought in 
severely wounded, but perfectly self-possessed. 
He at once gave orders, in presence of the Em- 
peror, to General Ducrot that the troops should be 
immediately massed, and retreat upon Mezieres, 
and expressly directed that they should not ac- 
cept a battle. He further ordered that General 
Ducrot with a certain force should immediately 
occupy the heights which overlook Sedan. Meas- 
ures were taken at once to carry out his instruc- 
tions, when General De Wimpffen appeared on 
the scene. He promptly addressed General Du- 
crot, saying, 'I have undertaken the command 
of the army. Besides, I am an older general 
than you, and I hold the position you are about 
to take to be entirely wrong. On the contraiy, 
the troops must be commanded to advance di- 
rectly.' The order was given, and the advance 
was made, with what fatal results a few hours 
showed. It is but justice to Marshal M'Mahon 
to make known the accurate foresight he showed. 
The battle soon began at all points, and with in- 
tense vigor, especially on the side of the Prus- 
sians. Towards 11 o'clock General De Wimpffen 
communicated to the Emperor that the French 
troops had the advantage in eveiy direction. 
At this time shells were falling fast near and 
round the position occupied by the Emperor and 
his staff', but all escaped, so far, unhurt. Sud- 
denly the Emperor perceived a French brigade 
suffering fearfully from the fire of the enemy. 
The men fell like wheat battered by a storm. 
The Emperor asked an officer of artilleiy, 'D'ou 
viennent ces projectiles ?^ No one knew. Short- 
ly after another artillery officer answered, ' Sire, 
the balls which fall on them and us come from a 
new Prussian battery erected at a distance from 
here of 4900 metres.' The Emperor was incred- 
ulous ; he could not believe in their murderous 
effects at such a remote range. He, however, 
immediately ordered cannon to play upon this 
newly - discovered batteiy, but to no purpose. 
The balls chiefly fell into the river Meuse, at a 
distance of only 1500 metres. The Emperor 
then joined the division and marched steadily 
forward. Balls continued to fall near and around 
him, but he still remained untouched. There 
seems no doubt at present that he did expose 
himself at the moment with considerable cour- 
age. Again assured that the French troops were 
gaining advantages at all points, he said to his 
staff that he should return to Sedan to breakfast, 
and would remount his horse and take the field 
again in an hour. He had scarcely entered Se- 
dan when he found soldiers flying in all direc- 
tions utterly panic-stricken. They rapidly filled 
the town. At the same time a terrific cannon- 
ade resounded from the very heights which Mar- 
shal M'Mahon, with admirable prescience, had 
ordered to be occupied by the French troops, 
but which were now in possession of the Crown 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAE. 



Prince and a portion of his corps d'armee. This 
advantage was fatal. Then and there the battle 
was virtually lost. The Crown Prince continued 
to rain fire upon the town, without intermission, 
and the streets were strewn with dead. Presh 
crowds of soldiers arrived in fright without arms, 
adding to the general confusion and wild terror. 
About 10 o'clock the Emperor, appalled by the 
enormous slaughter around him, and the bom- 
bardment at the same time increasing in force, 
summoned the generals, etc., of his staif, and 
asked in simple language, ' What was to be 
done?' All immediately decided in favor of 
capitulation, and the Emperor at once ordered 
Captain Lauriston to mount the ramparts and 
hoist the white flag. Previously, owing to the 
exterminating fire directed by the Crown Prince, 
especially on the troops surrounding the town, a 
general rout had taken place. All the efforts of 
the officers to rally the men were fruitless, and 
the belief was general and proclaimed throughout 
the ranks that they were betrayed. It is quite 
certain that the Crown Prince had resolved upon 
the complete reduction of the town at all costs 
had not the surrender ensued. The superiority 
of his artillery had been terribly proved. His 
guns were loaded at the breech, and could be 
fired five times against those of the French once. 
Further, in nearly all these battles the proportion 
of Prussian troops to the French has been four 
to one, and taking into account the greater ar- 
tillery power of the Prussians, it has been esti- 
mated that their total advantage was as twenty 
to one against the French. " 

The surrender of M'Mahon's army accom- 
plished, the Emperor was assigned a residence 
at the Chateau of Wilhelmshohe, whither he 
immediately set out. He appears to have em- 
ployed his leisure in writing a pamphlet on. the 
campaign and the causes which led to the ca- 
pitulation at Sedan. According to a telegraph- 
ic summary of this pamphlet, the fallen Empe- 
ror recalls to mind his manifesto issued just af- 
ter the declaration of war, and the misgivings 
with which he listened to the cry, " On to Ber- 
lin!" He says his plan was to mass 150,000 
men at Metz, 100,000 at Strasbourg, and 50,000 
at Chalons, and to cross the Rhine near Hague- 
nau with a large force in order to separate 
Southern Germany from the Northern Confed- 
ei-ation. He hoped to win the first great battle, 
and secure the alliance of Austria and Italy with 
France in imposing neutrality on Bavaria, Ba- 
den, and Wiirtemberg. The defects in the 
French military system, and the delay in bring- 
ing up men and material, defeated this plan. 
He enumerates the difiiculties encountered, but 
acquits the War Office of blame. 

The Germans having had ample time to bring 
their foi-ces into the field, the French were, out- 
numbered and put on the defensive. A new 
plan was necessary, involving a retreat on Cha- 
lons. This the Regency disapproved as dis- 
couraging to the public, and the Emperor was 



urged to resume the offensive. Yielding his 
convictions, M'Mahon's advice and plan were 
adopted. He alludes to his situation after he 
had given up the command of the army, and 
when his name and authority were ignored at 
Paris, as exceedingly painful. 
. He acquiesced in the march for the relief of 
Metz, though conscious of the danger of that 
enterjDrise. He describes the operations, and 
analyzes the battles which preceded the surren- 
der at Sedan, and gives an account of his inter- 
views with Count Bismarck and the King of 
Prussia. 

The pamphlet closes with the declaration that 
the German successes are due to superiority of 
numbers, improved artillery, rigorous discipline, 
respect for authority, and the military and pa- 
triotic spirit of the people, which absorbs all 
other interests and opinions. It censures the 
loose habits introduced by the African wars in 
which the French regular troops have been en- 
gaged, which it enumerates as want of disci- 
pline, lack of cohesion, absence of order, careless- 
ness of bearing, and the excess of luggage car- 
ried by the infantry. The efficiency of the 
army was weakened, too, by the excesses of the 
opposition in the Corps Legislatif and the Re- 
publican press, introducing into it a spirit of 
criticism and ins'ubordination. 



n. 

SAAEBRTJCK, GEAVELOTTE, METZ. 

Aftee the severe defeat sustained by General 
Frossard at Saarbruck, on the 6th of August, 
and the complete dissolution of the right wing 
under Marshal M'Mahon, the main body of 
the French army retreated on the line of the 
Moselle, to which the fortress of Thionville and 
Metz with its intrenched camp gave extraordi- 
nary strength. A direct attack upon this line, 
so admirably situated for defense, would have 
involved so much risk, and so great a sacrifice 
of life, that the German commanders moved 
their armies towards a point on the Moselle to 
the south of Metz, in order to pass the river 
above the fortress and attack the French where 
the advantage of position woiild be less in their 
favor. The German forces comprised the First 
Army, under command of General Steinmetz, 
and the Second Army, under command of 
Prince Frederick Charles. The movement of 
immense masses of men, which had to be made 
in a broad and open space of country, had to be 
secured against interruptions by special precau- 
tions ; and the First Army undertook to cover 
their march. 

As the French for a time appeared disposed 



72 



ON THE TRAIL OE THE WAE. 



to await an attack on the right bank of the 
Moselle, where they occupied a strong position, 
the nearest divisions of the Second Army were 
so placed as to afford support to the First, 
should it require assistance. Meantime the 
other corps of the Second Army had already 
crossed the Moselle above Metz, threatening 
Bazaine's communications with Paris, and forc- 
ing him to evacuate the right bank of the river, 
as he could not venture upon an offensive move- 
ment. The advanced guard of the First Army 
discovered his retreat on the lith of August, 
and, promptly attacking his rear guard, forced 
it forward upon the main body of the French 
army. On the German side, the first and sec- 
ond corps of the First Army, and several de- 
tachments of the ninth corps of the Second 
Army, joined in the engagement. After very 
severe fighting, in which both armies displayed 
indomitable courage, the French were forced 
back with great slaughter, and pursued till un- 
der shelter of the cannon of the Metz forts, on 
the right bank of the Moselle. The great ad- 
vantage of this victory, besides the very consid- 
erable losses inflicted on the French in men 
and material, was that it delayed their retreat, 
and enabled the German commanders to per- 
fect their plans for the isolation of Metz. 

Two roads lead from Metz to Verdun, the 
direction which the French army had to take 
in case of a retreat upon Paris. Those corps 
of the Second Army which had already passed 
the Moselle were immediately directed against 
the southei'n road, the one most easily reached, 
in order, if possible, to arrest the enemy's flank 
inarch on that side. This important task was 
brilliantly accomplished through a bloody and 
victorious battle. The 5th Division, under 
command of General Stiipnagel, on the 16th 
threw itself on the Frossard corps, which cov- 
ered the flank of the French army, the whole 
of which was gradually engaged. On the Prus- 
sian side. Prince Frederick Charles assumed 
command ; and after a bloody struggle of twelve 
hours, the south road from Metz to Verdun was 
gained and held, and the French retreat on 
Paris by this road cut off. The conduct of 
both armies, in this severe battle, was truly he- 
roic. On both sides the losses were heavy. 

Only two lines of retreat were now open to 
Bazaine — the flank march by the north road, 
or by a wide detour still farther north. Al- 
though such a retreat would be hazardous in 
the extreme, it seemed probable that Bazaine 
would undertake it, as the only mode of escape 
from a highly unfavorable situation, since oth- 
erwise he would be cut off from Paris and all 
means of succor. On the German side, the 



whole of the next day, the 17th, was occupied 
in bringing forward for the final struggle every 
available man. That part of the army still on 
the right bank of the Moselle threw several 
bridges across the river above Metz. In direct- 
ing the movements of the German troops, two 
things had to be considered — the possibility 
that Bazaine might attempt to escape by the 
north road, or that, perceiving the hazard and 
difficulty of this, he might prefer to accept bat- 
tle immediately before Metz, with his back 
turned towards Germany. His position, after 
the previous operations of the German armies, 
left him no other course but these. 

The conflict in which the fate of Bazaine's 
army was decided, was fought on the 18th of 
August. The First Army occupied a position, 
in the morning, south of Gravelotte, and was 
flrst directed to cover, in the wood of Vaux and 
at Gravelotte, the movement of the Second 
Army against any sortie from Metz. The story 
of the great battle is thus told in the Prussian 
official report : 

"The Second Army advanced in the morning 
by echelons of the left wing towards the north 
road, maintaining communication on the right 
with the First Army. The Twelfth Corps took 
the direction by Mars-la-Tour and Jarny, while 
the Guards Corps advanced between Mars-la- 
Tour and Vionville on Doncourt, and the Ninth 
Corps crossed the highway to the west of Rezon- 
ville, towards Caulre farm, north of St. MarceL 
These three corps composed the first line, and if 
the assigned points were reached, the north main 
road was gained. Saxon and Prussian cavalry 
preceded the column as skirmishers. 

' ' As soon as it was foimd that the enemy did 
not contemplate a retreat, and could therefore 
only remain before Metz, it was necessary to 
move these three corps considerably to the right, 
and to bring up both armies against the enemy. 
The Tenth and Third Corps foUowed in a sec- 
ond line, and then as the last reserve the Sec- 
ond Army Corps, which since 2 a.m. had been 
marching from Pont-a-Mousson towards Buxi- 
eres. About 10 30 it was evident that the ene- 
my had abandoned his retreat, and had taken up 
a position on the last ridges before Metz. The 
Second Army was thereupon ordered to carry 
out its sweep to the right, and, keeping up com- 
munication with the first, to direct its centre and 
left wing on Verneville and Amanvillers. The 
general attack was not to begin till the move- 
ment was entirely executed, and till the front of 
the strong position could be simultaneously at- 
tacked on the right flank. The Ninth Corps 
first threw itself on advanced detachments of the 
enemy. Towards noon artillery fire from the 
neighborhood of Verneville announced that the 
corps at that spot was engaged. The Fu-st 
Army was consequently ordered to occupy the 
attention of the enemy on the heights by artil- 
lery fire from its front. About 12 45 they open- 
ed a slow and, well-directed cannonade upon the 
eminences of the Point-du-Jour, to which the 
enemy replied from numerous batteries. The 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAE. 



73 



thunder of the cannon was drowned by the 
strange noise of the mitrailleuses. 

" The position was an exceedingly strong one, 
and its security was increased through fortifica- 
tions and by ranges of rifle-pits ; at certain points 
it had quite the appearance of a fortress. The 
attack could not succeed until our commanders 
had achieved the difficult task of so directing 
their measures that the whole of the troops were 
ready as well for the battle on the north as on 
the east, and the latter attack could only com- 
mence when it was apparent that the enemy had 
given up a retreat. It was not practicable, more- 
over, to completely carry out the movement 
which was to envelop the enemy's right wing ; 
and laothing remained but to attack the front of 
this formidable point. The struggle was long 
and difficult at various points. On the left wing 
the Saxons fought, and the Guards near St. Ma- 
rie-aux-Chenes, afterwards near the precipitous 
slopes of St. Privat-la-Montagne, then in that vil- 
lage and in Eoncourt. On the right, at St. Ail, 
and beyond at Habonville, the wood of La Cusse 
and Verneville, as far as the northerly road from 
Metz to Verdun, the Guards and the Ninth Army 
Corps sustained the struggle ; at Gravelotte and in 
the Vaux wood up to the Moselle, the Eighth and 
Seventh Corps ; and from the farther side of the 
river bank a brigade of the First Corps took part 
in the fight, likewise some single Divisions of the 
Third and Tenth Corps, especially artilleiy. On 
the enemy's side the whole of the main French 
army was engaged, even the troops originally 
destined for the Baltic expedition, with the ex- 
ception of M'Mahon's Divisions not stationed at 
Metz, and the larger part of Failly's corps. 

" The unsurpassable bravery of our troops suc- 
ceeded at the approach of dusk in storming the 
heights and driving the enemy from his whole line, 
the Second Corps, which had been marching 
since 2 a.m., taking a decisive part in this on the 
right wing. The battle terminated about 8 30, 
when it was quite dark. During the night the 
enemy drew back into his intrenched camp at 
Metz. Numberless wounded and stray detach- 
ments still wandered in the neighborhood of the 
battle-field. His majesty, who had directed the 
battle ultimately from the hill of Gravelotte, made 
Eezonville his head-quarters. 

The slaughter was terrible on both sides. 
"I shrink from inquiring after the casualties," 
wrote King William to the Queen of Prussia, 
the day after the battle. A correspondent who 
was an eye-witness of the struggle, and rode 
over the field after the fighting had ceased, de- 
scribes the slope on the Verdun road, immedi- 
ately in front of the French position, as a 
"frightful spectacle." Hundreds of Prussian 
corpses were heaped together on the fatal de- 
clivity. In one place, where a Prussian battery 
had been stationed, there were thirty horses ly- 
ing almost touching one another, many with the 
drivers beside them, still grasping their whips. 
Most of the coi-pses were on their backs, with 
their hands clenched. This position was ex- 
plained by the fact that most of the men had 
been shot grasping their muskets, and their 



hands clenched as they dropped their weapons 
and fell. Many corpses of Prussian officers 
lay by those of their men, with their white glove ^ 
on their left hands, the right ones being bare, 
in order better to grasp the sword. In the hol- 
low road itself the bodies of men and horses also 
lay thick, the corpses all along the sides of the 
road, for nearly 1000 yards, made one continu- 
ally unbroken row. A little lower down were 
found the tirailleur corpses. Many of these 
men had still their muskets in their hands, many 
forefingers being stiff on the trigger. On the 
left of the French position were two small cot- 
tages which had been a mark for the Prussian 
cannon, and their shells had made a complete 
ruin of the buildings. One roof was com- 
pletely gone, and the whole front wall of the 
upper story of the other had been blown in. On 
the plateau behind the French earth-works all 
the ground was ploughed and torn by the Prus- 
sian shells, which, when they got the range, were 
admirably aimed. One-third of its horses lay 
dead beside it. A shell had burst beneath one 
of the horses, and had blown him, the limber, 
and one of the gunners all to pieces. 

The famous mitrailleuses, of which so much 
was expected, did terrible execution at close 
quarters, but at long range their fire was less 
effective than that of the Chassepots. It is gen- 
erally admitted that this rifle is really superior 
to the needle-gun, but it is equally true that the 
French soldiers have not done justice to their 
v/eapon. The Germans, as a rule, never dream 
of drawing trigger until sure of their aim, and 
their fire, though less rapid than that of the 
French, is far more deadly. 

The following graphic and enthusiastic letter 
by a soldier gives a French view of the fighting 
of the 18th : 

"You have heard of our battle on the 18th ; 
what slaughter again from 10 o'clock till night- 
fall ! The Prussians occupied the woods, from 
the heights which command Briey to the rail- 
road which skirts the Moselle. The marshal had 
returned at full speed by the Woippy road ; they 
said in camp that we should have a new army to 
crush — a fresh army, which came from Treves 
and meant to throw us back on Prince Frederick 
Charles. The enemy suffers more than we do ; 
he may hold the inhabitants to ransom, but there 
is no bread for so many, no more wine, no more 
help for the wounded, nothing for the sick, whose 
number increases every day. They have no 
tents, and these poor devils of the Landwehr al- 
ready shake with fever, or run to the brooks to 
wash their red eyes. Alas ! what a hurry they 
are in to have it over ! At 11 o'clock they over- 
flowed us. We thought for a moment that they 
were cutting off our left by the Etain road. 
Their artillery, under cover of wood, was send- 
ing grape among us point-blank ; my poor, good 
G , who was behind me, to the left of the sec- 



74 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAE. 



ond rank, received three balls fall in the chest. 
That day then- projectiles carried well. They 
fired from above in the thicket, and we had but 
one resoiu-ce — to find a road by which we could 
take them in flank and dislodge them. My com- 
mandant, the good old man whom you know, 
had lead in his thigh. He grew visibly paler. I 
embraced him that night at St. Privat with the 
joy of a child. It was not possible to send him 
to the ambulance. A large blue handkerchief, 
well twisted round the wounded thigh, was the 
only dressing it had. This old grumbler dragged 
himself about thus till night. At 1 o'clock we 
lost our footing; one would have thought that 
fresh troops arrived every moment for the ene- 
my. But on the left, under the little village of 
Amanvilliers, the chasseurs sounded to charge. 
Our men recovered courage on hearing the clar- 
ion sound. The cannon roared among the pines 
which crowned the first quarry ; Canrobert was 
coming with his reserves ; Bourbaki was going to 
support the movement. We had once before re- 
pulsed the enemy ; our sharp-shooters were keeping 
up the devil's own fire through the smoking gaps 
in the wood which we had at our backs when we 
arrived. The regiment went up the only street 
of the village at full speed — a rocky road, which 
turns abruptly towards the second quarries, to the 
right of the church and cemetery. This move- 
ment was so rapid that we lost but few men in it. 
Three or four wounded dragged themselves to 
the oak-clumps between Champenon and Lorry. 
From our new position above the first quarries 
we could see in the valley the grenadiers driving 
the enemy out of the copse which was burning to 
the left of the hollow road, and, almost under 
our feet, two batteries sheltered behind the heaps 
of rough stones. In front, between St. Privat 
and Eoncourt, the enemy was re-forming almost 
in the open on the plateau which bounds the 
wood of Jaumont to the right. Tv/o little farms 
were burning on the edge of these woods ; the 
peasants had abandoned every thing to tumble 
down the steep slopes and get to the other side 
of the Moselle. That evening we had to break 
the doors in to put some of our wounded out of 
reach of the damp. The battle recommenced 
more furiously than at 11 and 12 o'clock. But 
we had no moi-e to fear from the side of Sainte 
Marie aux Chenes, nothing to fear on the side 
of Briey. We held the famous semicircle under 
cover in our town, only we held it from south to 
west, and the road to Metz was fully occupied. 
The marshal had gone to the left ; he wished to 
direct the movement ; one more effort and we 
went to form in masses on the edge of the ravine. 
The white lancers came to find themselves thrust 
on the bayonets at the opening to Aman-\dlliers ; 
our grenadiers ascended with drums beating to- 
wards the plateau, without burning a single car- 
tridge. It was magnificent. I had my sabre 
under my left arm, like a man who is there to 
look on, not to fight. The fire was spreading to 
the north, and came in one's face like puffs of 
hot wind. It was then the great movement 
from left to right was made, by the ravine and 
the quarries. I did not see what happened there, 
but two comrades of the brave 10th said this 
morning that no one could imagine such a 

slaughter Never mind, it was rough 

work, and the ranks had to close in very often. 
.... And we know what awaits us on the 



other side of the river. When I have time I will 
send you a necrological list, which will suggest 
singular reflections to amatem's. Keep up your 
heart. " 

The immediate result of this great victory 
was the complete isolation of the fortress of 
Metz. This was accomplished on the 19th 
of August. The Prussians, knowing that the 
surrender of the forces there cooped up was 
mei'ely a question of time, and willing to avoid 
a repetition of the terrible slaughter of the 18th, 
withdrew to strong positions on thie line of re- 
treat, cutting off the fortress from supplies and 
preventing the escape of the French army. 

The force thus isolated, and in effect neutral- 
ized, originally formed the left wing and centre 
of the grand army of invasion with which Na- 
poleon intended to cross the Ehine and march 
upon Berlin. It consisted of the Second, Third, 
Fourth, and Eighth Corps, commanded respect- 
ively by Frossard, Bazaine, Ladmirault, and 
Bourbaki, comprising in all about a hundred 
and seventy thousand men. In co-operation 
with M'Mahon's movement for his relief, Ba- 
zaine soon after the investment made a despe- 
rate effort to escape, and attacked the Landwehr 
on the north-east of Metz. They stood their 
ground with the bravery and steadiness of old 
troops, and, after a bloody but fruitless straggle, 
the French withdrew under cover of their works. 
The attempt was several times renewed, with 
similar results. Nowhere could the French 
marshal find a weak point in the Prussian line, 
nor did he ever succeed in taking his wary ad- 
versary at disadvantage. The Prussians mean- 
time made no effort to capture the fortress, con- 
tent to hold their own and let famine and sick- 
ness do the work of reduction. 

During the progress of the siege — if such an 
investment may be called a siege — the most con- 
tradictory rumors were circulated concerning 
the fidelity of Bazaine to his country, and the 
condition of the troops confined within the town 
and fortress. At one time it was asserted that 
provisions were abundant, and that Metz could 
hold out for six months; at another, that soldiers 
and citizens were starving, and that a fortress 
which a regular garrison of 10,000 men might 
have held for months would be reduced, in a few 
weeks, by famine. This seems to have been 
the true state of the case ; for Bazaine, after 
several fruitless attempts to cut his way through 
the Prussian lines, made proposals for the ca- 
pitulation of his army. The negotiations were 
brought to a close on the 27th of October, and 
the next day the surrender was made. Thion- 
ville and other forts about Metz refused to ac- 
knowledge the capitulation, and continued to 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



75 



hold out. By this surrender, three Marshals 
of France, sixty-six generals, 6000 officers, and 
173,000 troops fell into the hands of the Prus- 
sian commanders. 

At the time of the surrender the conduct of 
Marshal Bazaine was freely and severely criti- 
cised. He was accused of treachery, and 
charged with having sold out to the Prussians. 
It is impossible, at this time, to decide as to the 
correctness of these charges. The fallen mar- 
shal has himself indignantly denied them in an 
address to his soldiers, in which he says they sur- 
rendered only to famine. 



in. 

THE SIEGE OF STRASBOURG. 

The heroic defense of Strasbourg by General 
Uhrich will form a memorable chapter in the 
history of sieges. Cut off from communication 
with the rest of France by the defeat of M'Ma- 
hon's army and the occupation of the railroads 
leading to Paris by the German forces, the 
fall of the city was merely a question of time, 
and its early surrender was confidently predict- 
ed. But General Uhrich, a man of action and 
determination, resolved to make a brave fight 
for the possession of the city. The time between 
M'Mahon's defeat and the final investment was 
spent in energetic preparations for defense. 
The surrounding country was scoured for pro- 
visions, in addition to the stores already on 
hand. The batteries were put in perfect order. 
In all his operations General Uhrich had the 
warm support of the inhabitants. Soon after 
the siege commenced in earnest, he received a 
deputation from the council formed for the de- 
fense of the city, and opinions were freely inter- 
changed between them. The general admit- 
ted the difficulty of making a successful de- 
fense ; the council enlarged on the dangers of 
prolonging a hopeless resistance. The result 
was an understanding that the council should 
strain every nerve to prevent the city from 
falling into the hands of the besiegers, while 
General Uhrich, on his part, pledged himself 
to avert the exposure of the city to the horrors 
of an assault. As a soldier who had resolved 
to do his duty, he reserved to himself the sole 
right to determine when the critical moment 
had arrived, and would not listen to any propo- 
sition to surrender until it became impossible to 
continue the defense. 

Strasbourg was considered second to Metz 
only of the frontier fortresses of France. The de- 
fenses consisted of a bastioned enceinte of irreg- 
ular outline, admirably designed for defense. 
The numerous re-entering angles in the enceinte 



were well secured by towers and demi-bastions, 
while the salients were protected by a powerful 
cross-fire from the supporting works. The 
main ditch or moat was filled with water for 
nearly the whole distance around the city. Be- 
tween the city proper and the Rliine, connected 
with the enceinte and occupying a commanding 
position, was the citadel, constructed by Vauban, 
and generally considered one of his most impor- 
tant works. 

The investment of this powerful fortress was 
at first languidly pushed forward, and meantime 
provisions and reinforcements continued to flow 
into the city ; but by the 10th of September the 
works were completed and siege commenced in 
good earnest, and was kept up with increasing 
severity until the capitulation, A correspond- 
ent who witnessed the bombardment from the 
opposite bank of the Rhine, describes the scene 
as very striking, especially by night. The ef- 
fect from a distance was like the play of what 
is called heat-lightning. Sometimes a particu- 
larly bright flash would light up the horizon 
and show the long lines of poplars stretching 
away right and left, and the old Cathedral spire 
rising above them, and then all was black again, 
and the dull boom of the shot came rolling back 
through the night. Sometimes, too, the shells 
of the garrison burst high over the batteries 
with a bright blue flash like diabolical fire- 
works ; but the Strasbourg fire was for the most 
part slow and intermittent. 

From inside the walls came a different story. 
A refugee, who escaped during the siege, as- 
serted that while be was in the city shells some- 
times fell at the rate of twenty-five a minute. 
The destruction of property was enormous, and 
the loss of life not inconsiderable. In spite of 
several determined sorties by the garrison, the 
German works were daily pushed nearer the 
walls, and their fire became more effective 
with the shorter range. The walls were 
breached in several places, an attempt to divert 
the course of the river 111, and shut off the 
water supply of the beleaguered city, was not 
successful ; but at length it became evident that 
an assault was imminent, and General Uhrich 
reluctantly determined to surrender. On the 
27th of September a white flag was displayed on 
the great Cathedral tower. The bombardment 
ceased immediately, and shortly afterwards the 
terms of a capitulation were agreed upon be- 
tween General Uhrich and General Werder, 
commander of the besieging army. 

At 8 o'clock the next morning the French 
guards were relieved by German soldiers, who 
took possession of the gates and all other im- 
portant posts, and at noon a body of troops, 



76 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAE. 



numbering about 3000, marched in with flying 
colors and band playing. Previous to this the 
formal ceremony of surrender had taken place. 
The German army was paraded on an enormous 
piece of open ground abutting on the glacis be- 
tween the Fortes Nationale and De Saverne, 
General Werder at its head, surrounded by a 
brilliant staff in full uniform. As the clock 
struck ]1, General Uhrich emerged from the 
former gate, followed by his staff, and advanced 
towards the German commander, who alighted 
from his horse, and stepped forward to meet him, 
holding out his hand. Next came Admiral Ex- 
celmano. Brigadier-general De Barral, and the 
rest of the superior officers; then the regulars, 
marines, douaniers, and moblots, with flags fly- 
ing and arms shouldered. Eye-witnesses of the 
surrender say that, with few exceptions, the 
troops behaved disgracefully, and contravened 
the terms of the capitulation in a manner that 
but too plainly betrayed the state of utter in- 
subordination into which they had fallen. At 
least two-thirds of the men were drunk — vio- 
lently and offensively drunk ; hundreds, as they 
stumbled through the ruined gateway, dashed 
their rifles to pieces against the walls or the 
paving-stones, and hurled their sword-bayonets 
into the moat ; from one battalion alone ema- 
nated cheers of "Vive la Republique!" "Vive 
la Prusse !" and " Vive I'Empereur !" The offi- 
cers, it is said, made no attempt whatever to 
keep the men in order, or prevent them from 
destroying the arms which the signers of the 
capitulation had engaged themselves to deliver 
up to the German victors. Many of the men 
even danced to the music of the Prussian and 
Baden bands ; some rolled about on the grass, 
uttering inarticulate cries ; others made ludi- 
crous attempts to embrace the grave German 
legionaries, who repulsed them in utter aston- 
ishment at their unworthy bearing. The whole 
scene, say the authorities above quoted, was 
"exceedingly painful, disgusting, and, above all, 
undignified ; calculated to bring the French army 
into contempt, and considerably to modify the 
small remnants of respect for les militaires Fran- 
fais that still survived in the breasts of a few 
of the foreign by-standers — the terrible desillu- 
sionements of this miserable war." 

By this surrender, 17,000 men, including Na- 
tional Guards, and 451 officers, fell into the 
hands of the Prussians. 

Inside the gates the work of destruction was 
painful to behold, and testified to the heroism 
of the defenders. "As we passed through the 
streets," writes a correspondent who entered 
the city the day after the surrender, " we walk- 
ed between whole rows of houses unroofed, bat- 



tered to pieces, and in many places completely 
gutted by fire. Of the fine old Library, only 
some portions of the bare walls remain. The 
adjoining Temple Neuf is equally gutted. On 
the stone floor of the Library, among masses of 
broken stone and rubbish, lie remains of the 
carved enrichments of the pillars, which will 
no doubt be greedily carried away in a few days 
by relic-hunters. I was contented with some 
charred fragments of manuscripts, of which 
masses are blown by the wind into all corners. 
Not a book or manuscript seems to have escaped 
the flames. The Cathedral itself, close at 
hand, has not escaped quite imhurt, but, al- 
though so prominent a mark, it has been re- 
markably spared. The upper wooden roof 
seems to be quite burned away. A shell falling 
through the roof has smashed the organ. Some 
of the upper tier of windows are a good deal 
damaged, but the lower windows have been 
taken out, and are carefully stowed away, I be- 
lieve, intact ; so also the window at the east 
end, and the greater part of the church furni- 
ture and the ' tresor.' Here and there the stone- 
work of the outer galleries is slightly injured, 
but the clock is uninjured, and on the whole 
the edifice has suffered no irreparable damage. 
The Cathedral swarmed with German soldiers, 
who had hastened to assure themselves of its 
safety, and were loud in their exclamations of 
delight at finding it so little injured. In the 
lady-chapel were living some families of women 
and children. Their houses had been burned 
by shells, and, being poor and homeless, they 
had been permitted to stretch their mattresses 
on the floor there during the siege, and they did 
not yet know what other shelter to seek. The 
shops were slowly beginning to take down the 
mattresses and soaked bags piled up in front of 
their shutters to save their contents from the ex- 
ploding shells. The gratings giving access of 
light and air to the underground rooms and 
cellars were being freed from the embankments 
of earth which had been heaped over them to 
give safety to the inmates ; for these were the 
dwelling and sleeping places of most of those 
who could afford to consult their security dur- 
ing the siege. Strasbourg was shaking off its 
nightmare, and the people, amidst all their dis- 
tress, wore an aspect of gladness. The most 
frightful scene of destruction is in the suburb 
known as Schiltigheim, or the Quartier St. 
Pierre. This has been utterly burned and torn 
to pieces, chiefly by the guns of the citadel, lest 
the Germans should find shelter in it. I can 
compare it to nothing but Bazeilles, and that 
will only convey an idea to those few who have 
yet visited the battle-field of Sedan. The 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAK. 



77 



streets are strewed with debris ; of the houses 
there remain here some blackened walls, there 
a heap of stones and brick-work. The sign- 
boards, the police announcements, in many- 
places bear testimony to the recent active life 
which pervaded this mass of ruins ; but they 
rather add to than detract from the bitterness 
of its desolation." 

Among the curiosities found in Strasbourg, 
after the surrender, were back numbers of 
the "Courrier du Bas Ehin," published in the 
city throughout the continuance of the siege, 
and by means of which, aided by the less trust- 
worthy souvenirs of the inhabitants, one may live 
again through the horrors of the bombardment. 
In the earlier numbers one traces the conflict- 
ing feelings with which the people of Strasbourg 
watched the beleaguering soldiers close around 
them. The battles of Weissenburg and Woerth 
brought the fight nearly home to them. Al- 
ready on the ramparts they were beginning to 
feel the near approach of the enemy. Com- 
munications by letter and telegraph were cut 
off, and the surrounding villages were occupied 
by German troops. Then the siege begins. 
At first the greatest amount of harm is done by 
the defenders. The French destroy the roads, 
cut down the trees, and fire the buildings out- 
side their lines, that the enemy may find no 
shelter. The Garde Mobile are "familiarized 
with handling cannon " by cannonading and 
destroying the establishment of the Bon Pas- 
teur. In the interests of that part of the city 
near the Quartier St. Pierre, its rich suburb of 
Schiltigheim is given to the flames, and the 
plantations of the cemetery of St. Helen's are 
cut down ; then follows the destruction of brew- 
eries and workshops — "millions destroyed and 
great and lucrative industries annihilated." 
Then come the stern realities of bombardment. 
"Never will Strasbourg forget the emotions of 
the first two weeks of August," says the writer 
of the local chronicle; "but last night — the 
night of the I8th and the morning of the 19th 
— has been the most terrible of all." It was 
the night of the first effective bombardment ; 
the fall of the bombs, the fii'es they caused, the 
destruction, and the deaths, are described in 
painful detail. An "eloquent lawyer " writes to 
the paper a letter descriptive of his terrible 
fright, and how he took refuge in a cellar, and 
did not come out till the firing was over. 
These become every-day incidents very soon, 
and no one writes about them ; every body 
lives in the cellar who can afford to be idle and 
take no part in the fight. Of people who move 
about the street, men, women, and children are 
daily killed. The civil registers 'of births, 



deaths, and marriages, were kept up for some 
time after the beginning of the siege. The last 
marriage recorded is that of Marc-Emile Sau- 
vanel, peintre-doreur, veuf, et Marie-Madeleine 
Nicola. This was on the 19th of September, 
eight days before the capitulatii. , the wedding- 
music must have been martial and hoarse. On 
the same day were killed by shells Charles 
Klotz, ten years old, Marie Espinasse, aged six- 
ty-nine years, Emile Eay, aged ten years, with 
eight or nine other adult citizens. Burials 
could not be made in the ordinary cemeteries 
outside the city ; the Botanical Gardens were 
temporarily assigned for the purpose. The in- 
habitants were beginning to get pinched for 
food. On the 20th of August middle-men 
were prohibited from buying up meal and rais- 
ing its price, and all sales were ordered to be 
made in open market. Nevertheless, beef rose 
to four francs a pound, and finally could not be 
had. Horse-flesh was good and jDlentiful at half 
the price. Potatoes seventy francs a sack. 
The price of bread was fixed by authority on 
the 9th of September — white bread at i^d. and 
black bread at 3^d. the two-pound loaf. Eice 
was plentiful and beer and wine. Pates de foie 
gi'as do not seem to have failed, for a gentleman 
brought away a pile of them to give away as 
"souvenirs of the siege." On the last day of 
the siege the " Courrier " appeared on a smaller 
sheet, and was full of horrors. As usual, the 
day's list of the victims of bombardment in- 
cludes the names of several women and chil- 
dren. " The bombardment has been terrific. It 
seemed as if the danger could be no longer in- 
creased, and most terrible engines of war had 
already been used ; but last night they hurled 
incendiary bombs of a weight previously un- 
known to incredible distances ; they burst 
through even into the cellars ; in one house six 
people were killed and twelve wounded almost 
simultaneously." This was the last night of 
these horrors. Thirty hours afterwards the 
troubles of Strasbourg were at an end — for the 
present, at least. The shops were being open- 
ed, the German-speaking soldiers who had bom- 
barded the town were drinking beer with the 
German-speaking inhabitants who had suffered 
from the bombardment, and all Germany was 
afoot to seek to repair the harm it had unwill- 
ingly done. 

IV. 

THE SIEGE OF PARIS. 

M'Mahon's army sun-endered on Friday, 
September 2d. Up to Saturday night the news 
was not generally known in Paris, but state- 
ments had been made in the Chambers with 



78 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAR. 



the view of preparing the public mind for the 
worst. In the Senate Baron Jerome David ad- 
mitted that Marshal Bazaine had failed in his 
attempt to escape from the hostile armies that 
had hemmed him in at Metz, and that M'Ma- 
hon's attempt to relieve him had "terminated 
in a manner unfortunate for our armies." In 
the Corps Legislatif the Count of Palikao said 
that grave events had occurred, which for the 
time would prevent the junction of M'Mahon 
and Bazaine. He added : " The position is se- 
rious. We must no longer dissimulate. We 
are determined to make an appeal to the vigor- 
ous forces of the nation. We ai'e organizing 
200,000 of the National Guard Mobile, who 
will be called to Paris, and will form an army 
which will insure the safety of the capital. We 
shall act with the greatest energy, and shall only 
arrest our efforts when we have expelled every 
Prussian from French territory." 

The instant the tenor of the Ministerial 
statements became known, the popular agitation 
was intense, though very few were aware that 
the Emperor had been made a prisoner. At 8 
o'clock the same evening a crowd of about 6000 
people demanded of General Trochu, command- 
ing the French forces in Paris, that he should 
proclaim the decheance of the imperial dynasty ; 
but the General replied that he was a soldier, 
and could not break his oath. It was for the 
Chamber to comply with this demand. He 
would, however, defend Paris until death. The 
crowd received this reply with shouts of " Ab- 
dication ! Abdication!" Another crowd of 
about 10,000 people also sent to General Tro- 
chu with' the same object as the first, and re- 
ceived the same reply with shouts of "Abdica- 
tion!" " France forever !" " Trochu forever !" 
Meanwhile the streets and boulevards were 
densely crowded, but the people were reserved 
and silent. The approaches to the Chambers 
were guarded by a strong force of cavalry and 
infantry, though there appears to have been no 
reason to apprehend a disturbance. 

It was not until Sunday morning that the 
whole extent of the disaster that had befallen 
M'Mahon was disclosed to the Parisians by the 
"Journal Official," which published the follow- 
ing proclamation, issued by the Council of 
Ministers : 

" Frenchmen ! a great misfortune has befallen 
the country. After the three days of heroic 
struggles kept up by the army of Marshal M'Ma- 
hon against 300,000 enemies, 40,000 men have 
been made prisoners. General WimpfFen, who 
had taken the command of the army, replac- 
ing Marshal M'Mahon, who was grievously 
wounded, has signed a capitulation. This cruel 
reverse does not daunt our courage. Paris is 



now in a state of defense. The military forces 
of the country are being organized. Within a 
few days a new army will be under the walls of 
Paris, and another is in formation on the banks 
of the Loire. Your patriotism, your concord, 
your energy will save France. The Emperor 
has been made prisoner in this contest. The 
Government co-operates with the public author- 
ities, and is taking all measm-es required by the 
gravity of these events." 

The Corps Legislatif had, however, been told 
the news some hours earlier. At half-past nine 
Saturday night, summonses were issued by M. 
Schneider for a sitting at midnight ; but it was 
after one on Sunday morning when business ac- 
tually commenced. The Count of Palikao then 
made the Chamber acquainted with the news, 
without reservation, and proposed that the 
Chamber should adjourn further deliberation 
till the following day. M. Jules Favre then 
rose and said that if the Chamber wished to 
postpone discussion, he would offer no opposi- 
tion to the proposal, but he wished to submit in 
his own name, and for a certain number of his 
colleagues, the following propositions : 

"1. Louis Napoleon Bonaparte and his dj'- 
nasty are declared to be divested of the powers 
conferred upon them by the Constitution. 

" 2. A governing Commission consisting of 
— members shall be aiDpointed by the Corps 
Legislatif, which Commission shall be invested 
with aU the powers of Government, and which 
shall have for its special mission to offer every 
resistance to invasion, and to expel the enemy 
from the territory. 

" 3. General Trochu is continued in his func- 
tions as Govenior-general of the city of Paris." 

The only remark made upon this proposition 
was made by M. Pinard, who said the Chamber 
had not the power to decree a forfeiture of au- 
thority, and it was then resolved to adjourn till 
noon. 

As soon as the sitting was over, the Minis- 
ters went to the Empress and told her that 
they felt themselves in honor bound to stand by 
the dynasty, but that they were convinced that 
for her and her family all hope was over. The 
Empress, however, desired that an effort should 
be made. General Trochu was consulted, but 
he stated that he was responsible for the defense 
of Paris only, and he could do nothing for the 
dynasty. It was then decided that Count Pali- 
kao should propose a Provisional Government, 
with himself at its head, which was to assume 
power by a decree of the Empress. 

But in the mean time the Deputies of the 
Left Centre had held a meeting, in which they 
agreed to support a proposal of M. Thiers, 
which, without saying as much in words, par- 
tially suspended the Empire, and gave power to 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAE. 



79 



a Committee of National Defense, in which all 
parties would be represented. General Trochu 
promised to recommend the Garde Nationale to 
go down to the Chamber, and to support this 
combination. The Left, too, held their meet- 
ing, and agreed to insist upon the decheance, 
and the nomination of a Provisional Govern- 



proaches across the bridges, about 3000 troops 
were in the court-yard of the Tuileries, some 
few regiments had been consigned to their bar- 
racks ready to act, and the rest of the soldiers 
in Paris were left to their own inspirations. 
When the sitting commenced, it soon, liowever, 
became evident that the ' ' Eight, " composed of 




GENERAL TEOOHir. 



ment of nine, five of whom should be deputies 
of Paris. Thus matters stood when, at 9 
o'clock, President Schneider announced that 
the sitting of the Chamber had commenced. 
General Palikao had surrounded the Palace of 
the Corps Legislatif with troops, a body of 
Gardes de Paris were guarding all the ap- 



official candidates, were awed, and could not be 
depended on. The troops, too, were so thor- 
oughly disgusted with the surrender of the Em- 
peror that they would not act against the Na- 
tional Guard, and gi-adually fell back, and were 
replaced by the latter. The three propositions 
of Count Palikao, M. Thiers, and M. Jules Fa- 



80 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



vre were then submitted to the Chamber, and 
collectively referred to a committee. The sit- 
ting was then suspended. 

On the resumption of the sitting, the galle- 
ries and floor of the Chambers were invaded by- 
crowds of people, demanding the deposition of 
the Emperor, and the proclamation of the Re- 
public. An announcement, by M. Gambetta, 
that the Chamber was deliberating on the deche- 
ance, was received with vociferous applause, 
cries of "Vive la France," and national songs. 
Cries of "Down with the Bonapartes!" and 
"Vive la France!" prevented the transaction 
of business by the Chambers. M. Gambetta 
ascended the tribune and addressed the people 
in the galleries, and groups of citizens and Na- 
tional Guards invaded the floor of the Chamber. 
Silence having been at length obtained, Presi- 
dent Schneider took the chair, and addressed a 
few words to the Corps Legislatif, represented 
by the Left and a few members of the Right 
who had slipped timidly into their seats. The 
Count of Palikao made a short appearance, but 
M. Brame was the only minister who faced the 
storm. M. Schneider protested against the in- 
vasion of the Chamber, and declared that the 
House could not deliberate under intimidation. 
There were fierce cries for the Republic, and 
again the Chamber was invaded, the benches 
taken by storm, and the President driven from 
his chair. M. Jules Favre then managed to 
gain possession of the tribune, and proclaimed 
the downfall of the Bonaparte family. M. 
Gambetta confirmed his words ; and, in fact, 
the d&cheance had been decreed in committee, 
by a vote of 195 deputies against 18. 

After these stirring events, the deputies of 
Paris, attended by an immense crowd of people, 
proceeded to the Hotel de Ville, which they 
were allowed to enter without opposition, and 
there M. Gambetta proclaimed the Republic. 
Then the crowd, intoxicated with frantic joy, 
rushed about the streets, singing national songs 
and shouting " Vive la Republique !" The sol- 
diers and the National Guard fraternized with 
the people, and for several hours the streets pre- 
sented scenes of almost ludicrous manifestations 
of enthusiasm. 

Perceiving that the cause of the Empire was 
for the present lost, without a resort to arms, 
and willing to avoid bloodshed, the Empress, 
who had borne herself with admirable dignity 
through all the trying events of the preceding 
fortnight, left the Tuileries in a private carriage 
and took train for Belgium, and thus the Sec- 
ond Empire came to an end, without bloodshed 
or violence. The only mischief done by the 
mob was the destruction of a picture of the Em- 



peror at the Hotel de Ville, and the pulling 
down and destruction of busts and portraits of 
the Imperial family, and all emblems of Impe- 
rialism, wherever they were seen. 

In the course of the day (Sunday) a new gov- 
ernment, calling itself "The Government of 
National Defense," was formed, consisting al- 
most exclusively of members of the Left. The 
one signal exception was General Trochu, who 
was named President, " with full military pow- 
er for the national defense," and who installed 
himself at the Tuileries. M. Jules Favre was 
made Minister of Foreign Affairs ; M. Gambetta 
Minister of the Interior ; M. Picard, of Finance ; 
General Leflo, who owed his generalship to the 
government of 1848, when he was a deputy. 
War ; M. Fourichon, who has been since 1864 
President of the Council of Naval Works, Ma- 
rine ; M. Cremieux, Justice, the same office 
which he filled in the Provisional Government of 
1848; M.Jules Simon, Public Instruction and 
Religion ; M. Magnin, an iron-master and land- 
ed proprietor. Agriculture ; andM. Dorian, also 
an iron-master. Public Works. A Committee 
of National Defense was also formed, consisting 
of all tlie Paris deputies, including M. Roche- 
fort ; General Trochu was made President, and 
M. Jules Favre, Vice-president. M. Etienne 
Arago was appointed Mayor of Paris. 

One of the first acts of the new Ministry was 
to proclaim an amnesty for all political offenses, 
and many persons who had been condemned for 
such offenses were set at liberty. The Govern- 
ment also decreed the dissolution of the Legis- 
lative Chamber and the suppression of the Sen- 
ate and the Presidency of the Council of State. 
Seals were placed on the doors of the Chamber. 
The manufacture and sale of arms was declared 
absolutely free. 

On the following day, September 5th, the 
"Journal of the French Republic" published 
the subjoined proclamation : 

"Frenchmen ! The people have disavowed a 
Chamber which hesitated to save the country 
when in danger. It has demanded a Republic. 
The friends of its representatives are not in pow- 
er, but in peril. 

"The Republic vanquished the invasion of 
1792. The Republic is proclaimed. 

" The Revolution is accomplished in the name 
of right and public safety. 

" Citizens! Watch over the city confided to 
you. To-morrow you will be with the army, 
avengers of the country. " 

, On Tuesday, September 5th, M. Jules Favre, 
as Foreign Minister, issued a circular to French 
diplomatic agents abroad, in which he vindi- 
cated the position of the Provisional Govern- 
ment, and stated, in broad outline, the princi- 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAE. 



81 



pies on which it was prepared to treat for peace. 
He stated that he had always been in favor of 
peace, and of leaving Germany to manage her 
own affairs. The King of Prussia having de- 
clared, says Mr. Favre, that "he made war, not 
upon France but upon the dynasty," and the 
dynasty having fallen, he would be responsible 
to the world should he continue the war. M. 
Favre declared further that "France will not 
yield an inch of her territory or a stone of her 
fortresses. A dishonorable peace would be a 
war of extermination at an early date. The 
Government will only treat for a durable peace. 
The interest of France is that of all Europe ; 
but were she alone she would not be enfeebled. 
Paris has a resolute army well provided for ; a 
well - established enceinte, and. above all, the 
breasts of 300,000 combatants determined to 
hold out till the last. After the forts," M. 
Favre says, ' ' we have the ramparts, after the 
ramparts we have the barricades. Paris can 
hold out for three months, and conquer. If 
she succumbs, France will start up at her ap- 
peal, and avenge her." France would continue 
the struggle, and her aggressor would perish. 
"We have not," he adds, " accepted power with 
any other object. We will not keep it a mo- 
ment if we do not find the population of Paris 
and the whole of France decided to share our 
resolutions. We wish only for peace, but if 
this disastrous war which we have condemned 
is continued against us, we shall endeavor to do 
our duty to the last, and I have the firm confi- 
dence that our cause, which is that of right and 
of justice, will triumph in the end." 

The Republic was immediately proclaimed 
in Havre, Marseilles, Nantes, and other cities, 
with great enthusiasm. 

Meanwhile, preparations for the defense of 
the capital were pushed forward with unabated 
activity. General Trochu issued a procla- 
mation, giving notice of the approach of the en- 
emy, declaring the defense of the city assured, 
and appealing to the patriotism of the people. 
As the isolation of the city from the rest of 
France was but a question of time, the seat of 
government was transferred to Tours, whither 
most of the ministers immediately proceeded. 

A more difficult or more embarrassing task 
than the defense of Paris was never laid upon a 
soldier. A powerful enemy flushed with vic- 
tory was before the walls ; within, were a sol- 
diery demoralized by defeat, raw levies, and a 
populace split up into a hundred factions. The 
strength of the outlying girdle of forts assured 
him time to organize his forces and drill his 
recruits into a serviceable condition, if he could 
only control the impatience of the populace, who, 
6 



having just declared the overthrow of the Em- 
pire, were clamorous to direct the defense of the 
city. They demanded immediate action. For 
a time they were amused with unimportant sal- 
lies and reconnoitring parties, which also had 
the effect of accustoming the young and raw 
levies to military movements. The appai'ent 
inactivity of the Prussians inflamed their spirit 
of impatience. Their lines closed about Paris 
about the 18th of September, and the immedi- 
ate bombardment of the city was expected. 
But when day after day went by, and the bom- 
bardment was still deferred, the sanguine Pa- 
risians attributed the delay to weakness, and 
began to clamor for more serious offensive 
movements. This doubtless led to the formi- 
dable sortie of October 21. Former sorties and 
reconnaissances had been directed from the 
south front of the fortifications, either in ex- 
pectation of assistance from the army of the 
Loire, or because this was thought to be the 
weakest part of the investing line ; the attack 
of the 21st was made in nearly the same direc- 
tion, but with larger bodies of men, supported 
by a numerous field of artillery, under protec- 
tion of the guns of Mont Vale'rien. The French 
fought well, but were ultimately compelled to 
withdraw, leaving one hundred prisoners and 
two guns in the hands of the Prussians. 

A letter in the "London Times," written from 
Paris October 6th and sent out of the city by 
"balloon post," will give the reader some idea 
of the condition of the capital, and the nature of 
the difficulties with which General Trochu had 
to contend in the earlier part of the siege. 

" There has been between the Government and 
an extreme section of the Democrats a collision 
which I fear threatens mischief. M. Gusfavc 
Flourens, at the head of five battalions of the Na- 
tional Guard, four of which he himself commands, 
marched yesterday afternoon to the Hotel de Ville, 
and in somewhat peremptory fashion request- 
ed the Government to arm the National Guard 
with Chassepots, in order to qualify them for 
sorties ; to change the present defensive for an 
offensive system of tactics by perpetual sorties ; 
to dispatch Special Commissioners to the prov- 
inces in order to raise a levy in mass ; to hold at 
once the municipal elections, and to commence an 
official distribution of food to the population of 
Paris. According to some accounts M. Flourens 
went farther, and wanted the Government to un- 
dertake a policy of Republican propagandism in 
foreign countries. However, the five points 1 
have mentioned constituted the essence of hi^ 
programme. The reply of the Government, rep- 
resented by General Trochu and M. Gambetta, 
was in the main unfavorable, and M. Flourens has, 
in consequence, it is said, resigned the command 
of his battalions. As his undoubted personal 
courage and his reputation for political integrity 
have made him very popular with a perhaps small, 
but by no means uninfluential, section of the Re- 



82 



ON THE TRAIL OF THE WAR. 



publican party, this split in the camp, if it is not 
speedily mended, may produce very serious con- 
sequences. General Trochu disposed A'ery easily 
of the first demand by declaring he would gladly 
give the National Guard better weapons, only he 
did not happen to have enough of them. 

"On the question of perpetual sorties, the Gen- 
eral found himself compelled to differ from M. 
Flourens. Indeed, there is more difference of 
opinion on this question than on any other, and 
it may perhaps be considered, next to the supply 
of food, the principal question of the day. A 
large party chafe ceaselessly at what they consid- 
er the indecorous and impolitic attitude of the 
Army of Paris. Despite the j-epeated assevera- 
tions of their journals, they can not feel sure that 
it is altogether 'heroic' Victor Hugo, indeed, 
in a recent manifesto, quite turns the tables upon 
the Prussians by declaring that they are cowards 
for not trying to storm Paris. ' Here we are, ' 
he cries, ' waiting, all ready for you ; longing to 
fight you : why don't you come on ? It is be- 
cause you can no longer hide yourselves in woods, 
and kill us without oiu* having the honor of even 
malting your acquaintance ; you are afraid of us.' 
And naturally struck by the contrast between 
the cowardice of the Prussians and the bravery 
of his own countrymen, he concludes with the 
eloquent prophecy that, 'as Paris has crowned 
the statue of Strasbourg with flowers, so history 
will crown Paris with stars.' Unluckily, how- 
ever, many of the Parisians are of a less poetical 
v/ay of thinking, and consider that, so far as it is 
a mere question of courage or cowardice, it is 
their business to go out and meet the Prussians, 
instead of shouting defiance from behind batter- 
ies and loopholed walls. They hold it disgrace- 
ful that 500,000 men should be unable to look 
300,000 in the face, even though they can always 
select their own point of attack, and, massing 
rapidly near the centre, traverse the diameter of 
the circle while their enemy are compelled to 
move round the circumference. Why not hurl 
every night 100,000, or, if you like, 200,000 men, 
since we shall still have enough left to guard 
Paris from any surprise in another quarter, some- 
times upon one weak point, sometimes upon an- 
other of the hostile camp, which can not bring 
at first more than one man against your six, and 
then retreat into Paris, having done as much 
mischief as you can before the enemy can muster 
in strength ? The Prussians ought not to be al- 
lowed a moment's breathing-time. The present 
delay which the Government has the conscience 
to declare in our favor is allowing them quietly 
to form intrenchments, in which they will be as 
strong as we are in Paris, and from which we 
shall find it difficult, if not impossible, to dis- 
lodge them. We, on the other hand, are eating 
up our provisions, and are by every day's delay 
brought twenty-four hours nearer to a state of 
famine, in which no amount of courage or en- 
durance can save us. Every day, too, the Prus- 
sian cancer eats farther into France, wasting her 
substance, breaking her spirit, and disgracing 
her in the eyes of all Europe. Such are the 
views of the party which M. Flourens represents, 
and they are, at any rate, in keeping with his 
personal courage. It is possible also that he and 
his friends are stung by certain sayings attributed 
to distinguished foreigners, both here and in the 
Prussian camp, that if there were only half as 



many Americans, or even English, in Paris as 
there are Frenchmen, the Prussians would have 
to raise the siege in a week, finding the environs 
of Paris much too hot for them. But there is a 
good deal to be said on the other — General Tro- 
chu — side of the question. It is much easier to 
talk of hurling 100,000 men at once upon this or 
that point than to hurl them — to say nothing of 
the still greater difficulty of hurling them back ; 
and when they happen to be, most of them, raw 
troops, who a few weeks ago were beginning the 
A B C of drill, while their opponents are the best 
soldiers in Europe, it is as well to remember that 
discipline has, before now, proved more than a 
match for overwhelming numbers, and that one 
regiment can keep the largest mob at bay. This 
hurling in masses of raw but brave recruits was 
all very well in 1792, but modern artillery has 
now made it dangerous. The Prussians at this 
moment far excel us in artillery, as they do in 
drill ; but we are casting cannon rapidly. We 
may soon be provided as well as they are, and 
meantime our troops, incessantly exercised, are 
getting into better shape every day. The prov- 
inces, too, have time to organize levies, and may 
be able to take the Prussians in rear while we 
take them in front. These are the views of the 
Government and, I fancy, the great majority of 
the Parisians. The only flaw that strikes me in 
them is that, according to all accounts we can 
get — though it must be admitted these accounts 
are not worth much, most of them being, I be- 
lieve, fabricated in Paris — the Provinces, instead 
of rising en masse, are showing a most strange 
and discouraging apathy. If so, the case of 
Paris is hopeless." 

As soon as it became apparent that France 
was unable to resist the invasion she had drawn 
upon herself, an attempt was made by the new 
government to enlist the sympathy and active 
co-operation of other governments. The United 
States had acknowledged the i-epublic, in an in- 
formal manner, and this example was followed 
by several of the European states ; but France 
wanted more than a recognition of a change of 
government. Material aid, an alliance with a 
power willing to take part in the war and com- 
pel Prussia to abate some of her pretensions, 
were necessary to her preservation. The new 
government hoped to effect such an alliance by 
working upon the jealousy excited by the sud- 
den growth of Prussia, and the vision of an im- 
mense German Empire that now began to loom 
up before Russia and Austria. The veteran 
statesman M. Thiers was selected to carry out, 
if possible, this design, and with this end in view 
he visited, in turn, London, Vienna, St. Peters- 
burg, and Florence. It probably surprised no 
one that he returned disappointed. He himself 
could hardly have looked upon his mission in 
any other light than that of a forlorn hope. He 
deserved credit for his patriotism ; and it must 
also be admitted that, if there was no chance for 
him, no other could have looked for better for- 



ON THE TKAIL OF THE WAR. 



83 



tune. The affair was already prejudged and 
closed. For years the French emperor had 
been looking for allies. He regarded his en- 
counter with Prussia as an inevitable contin- 
gency, and, to do him justice, he never under- 
valued his adversary. For a long time he reck- 
oned on Austria's burning desire to revenge 
Sadowa. He was no stranger to the petty jeal- 
ousies and anxious apprehensions of the South 
German Courts. He felt confident that he held 
in Rome a pledge for the subserviency of Italy. 
He fancied he could hold out a bait by which 
he could tempt Russian cupidity. Finally, he 
made sure of England's acquiescence, grounding 
his confidence partly on this country's estrange- 
ment from Continental politics, partly on that 
"cordial understanding" of which he thought 
we had greater need than himself. The end 
was that he took the field single-handed. He 
may, even while crossing the frontier, have cher- 
ished sanguine anticipations that success might 
develop new political combinations; and no 
one even now can say what results a splendid 
victory on the Saar or a rapid march across the 
Rhine upon Stuttgart or Munich might have 
Iiad on the unquiet Hohestauffen and Wittels- 
bach Councils. But it was otherwise decreed. 
The first encounters on the frontier were irrep- 
arable reverses for France, and every waverer 
thanked his stars that he had not embarked in 
the sinking ship. 

At the last moment, when the waves were 
almost closing over the sinking ship, M. Thiers 
was charged to bear aloft the signal of dis- 
tress. That he would fail was evident from the 
beginning. What could he propose ? What 
could he say to Russia or Austria that was not 
already known to those powers ? The astound- 
ing present and the threatening future were 
manifest to all men. The vision of Prussia, a 
gigantic military nation, ambitious and unscru- 
pulous in the use of her power, at the head of 
a vast consolidated empire ; Holland, Switzer- 
land, above all, Austria, menaced with absorp- 
tion, or with subordination to the leading state, 
as satellites round the guiding luminary ; the 
balance of power hopelessly disturbed ; a Teu- 
tonic preponderance, with the eventual annihila- 
tion of the Latin and Slavonic races — the very 
sun of Europe gone down with France's fall, 
and the stagnation of all national development ; 
all this, and much more, M. Thiers might urge 
as the evil to be dreaded, and to be averted only 
by saving France through a military coalition 
against Prussia. But, as we have already re- 
marked, this had been tried by the Emperor 
when France held the position of the first mili- 
tary power in the world ; and if it failed then, 



how could it be expected to succeed when 
France was stricken down and helpless ? When 
M. Thiers begged the neutral Powers to "save 
France," the very natural reply was, in sub- 
stance : " Most willingly, if you would only tell 
us how she is to be saved." No doubt he had 
considerations to urge which would bring them 
to the aid of France. For Russia, there was the 
prospect of a revision of the Treaty of Paris, 
with a distant glimpse of Danubian lands and 
Hellespontic waters ; for Austria, a recovery of 
German ascendency, a compensation in Silesia 
for Lombardy and Venice ; for Italy, Rome — 
or, at least, France's good-will to Italy's occupa- 
tion of Rome. For England alone, says the 
" London Times " with some irony, there could 
be no tempting offer ; but in that country M. 
Thiers probably thought "virtue is its own 
reward," and, undoubtedly, adds the "Times," 
peace is in itself at all times the greatest boon 
that England can receive at the hands of her 
Continental sisters. 

M. Thiers returned from his mission with 
nothing but the good-will of every body and 
his own disappointment. It was now evident 
that France had nothing to hope for from other 
powers, and that she must depend upon her 
own endeavors to win the most favorable terms 
from Prussia. For a time the heroic defense 
of Strasbourg, and other fortified places, the 
stubborn attitude of Bazaine at Metz, and the 
awakening through tardy patriotism of the 
provinces, gave rise to the hope that peace 
might be made without humiliating concessions. 
The fall of Strasbourg and Metz dispelled this 
hope. 

But in the mean time the English Cabinet, 
either taking alarm at the threatened annihila- 
tion of her only ally, or from notions of human- 
ity, sought an opportunity for peaceful interven- 
tion. About the middle of October, Earl Gran- 
ville, supported by the cabinets of all the neu- 
tral powers, proposed a meeting between M. 
Thiers and Count Bismarck, to which both as- 
sented, for the purpose of arranging the terms 
of an armistice, to allow the convocation of 
the French Assembly, and the formation of a 
stable government with which a treaty of 
peace could be concluded. 

On the 1st of November, in accordance with 
the aiTangements perfected by Earl Granville, 
M. Thiers was admitted to an audience witli 
King William at Versailles. The conference 
called there lasted three hours, and the condi- 
tions of the proposed armistice were fully dis- 
cussed. The next morning a military council 
was held, in which Count Bismarck partici- 
pated, and in the aftenioon M. Thiers and the 



84 



ON THE TEAIL OF THE WAR. 



Count were closeted together for a long time. 
Nothing was concluded at these interviews. 
On the 3d and 4th of November, the interviews 
were renewed. At the first, according to the 
telegraphic account, M. Thiers showed Count 
Bismarck his authorization from the Paris Gov- 
ernment to arrange an armistice on the basis 
proposed by Lord Granville. The Count re- 
plied that it was all very well as far as it went, 
but an authorization from the Tours Govern- 
ment was also necessary. M. Thiers said M. 
Gambetta and his colleagues would not disa- 
vow an agreement made by the Paris Govern- 
ment and supported by General Trochu and 
the army of Paris. But he would undertake 
at once to communicate with Tours, and obtain 
a formal authorization in addition to the in- 
formal powers already received. Count Bis- 
marck insisted on the necessity of convoking an 
Assembly to speak with authority in the name 
of the country. He said he was willing to sus- 
pend active hostilities for this purpose, but un- 
til all had been arranged the siege operations 
would have full course. 

At the second interview, Count Bismarck 
waived the point of the Tours Government's 
authorization, and discussed the conditions of 
the armistice. He proposed that Paris should 
receive daily one day's food on the scale of 
present rations, and both belligerents proceed 
on their matei'ial preparations ; the Germans to 
continue to occupy the whole territory now held 
by them, to cease to make forced requisitions, 
and to be allowed to bring forward all their 
stores and war material without interruption. 
M. Thiers agreed to these points, and asked, 
" Will Alsace and Lorraine be permitted to 
send deputies to the Assembly ?" Count Bis- 
marck replied in the negative ; but at length 
intimated that he mi^ht consent. 

Thus far appearances were all in favor of the 
armistice. M. Thiers was positive that the 
Provisional Government would accept the con- 
ditions that had been agreed upon, even though 
they looked to the cession of the Rhine prov- 



inces and the payment of an indemnity. But, 
at the last moment, the Provisional Government 
rejected the protocol, and ordered M. Thiers to 
inform Count Bismarck that the conditions 
could not be accepted. The rupture was un- 
derstood to be partly owing to the persistence 
of Count Bismarck in insisting on guaranties 
for the cession of territory, and partly to the 
disordered condition of Paris, 

Previous to the attempt of M. Thiers to treat 
with Count Bismarck, General Burnside, who 
was at the Prussian head-quarters, proffered 
his services as the bearer of proposals for an 
armistice. He arrived in Paris on the 3d of 
October, bearing a letter from Count Bismarck 
to the Minister for Foreign Affairs. This letter, 
however, exclusively concerned the complaint 
made by the members of the Diplomatic Body 
residing in Paris, and who had demanded that 
they should be allowed to send dispatches to 
their respective governments once a week. 
General Burnside had no official capacity, and 
it was his own idea, and yielding to a generous 
impulse, that he endeavored without any com- 
mission to effect some conciliatory arrangement 
between the hostile parties. He was unable, 
however, to effect this object. A second visit 
took place a day or two afterwards, at which 
both the Minister for Foreign Affau's and Gen- 
eral Trochu were present. He was not this 
time the bearer of a letter from Count Bis- 
marck, nor had he been intrusted with a verbal 
message ; but it was evident to the Paris au- 
thorities, from his conversation, that the views 
of the Chancellor of the North German Confed- 
eration had undergone no change, and that if 
he considered an armistice as practicable for 
the convocation of an Assembly he would grant 
it for the actual space of forty-four hours only ; 
that he would refuse to include Metz in it; that 
he would prohibit all re-victualling ; and that he 
would exclude from the elections the citizens of 
Alsace and Lorraine. The friendly interposi- 
tion of General Burnside was therefore without 
result. 



THE END. 



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jBcviiuers 



MAP SHOWING THE SEAT OF VVAK IN FKANCE. 



HARPER'S LIBRARY OF 
SELECT NOVELS. 



■ Mailing Notice.— Uatcpeb, & Beotuees will send their Books by Mail, postage free., to any part of the United 

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PRICE 

1. Pelham. By Bulwer $0 75 

2. The Disowned. By Bulwer 75 

3. Devereux. By Bulwer 50 

4. Paul Clifford. By Bulwer 50 

5. Eugene Aram. By Bulwer 50 

6. The Last Days of Pompeii. By Bulwer 50 

7. The Czarina. By Mrs. Hoiland 50 

8. Eienzi. By Bulwer 75 

9. Self-Devotion. By Miss Campbell 50 

10. The Nahob at Home 50 

11. Ernest Maltravers. By Bulwer 50 

12. Alice ; or, The Mysteries. By Bulwer 50 

13. The Last of the llarons. By Bulwer 1 00 

14. Forest Days. By James 50 

15. Adam Brown, the Merchant. By H. Smith ... 50 

16. Pilgrims of the Khine. By Bulwer 25 

17. The Home. By Miss Bremer 50 

18. The Lost Ship. By Captain Neale 75 

19. The False Heir. By James 50 

20. The Neighbors. By Miss Bremer 50 

21. Nina. By Miss Bremer 50 

22. The President's Daughters. By Miss Bremer. . 25 

23. The Banker's Wife. By Mrs. Gore 50 

24. The Birthright. By Mrs. G ore 25 

25. New Sketches of Every-day Life. By Miss Bremer 50 

26. Arabella Stuart. By James 50 

27. The Grumbler. By Miss lickering 50 

28. The Unloved One. By Mrs. Hofland 50 

29. Jack of the Mill. By William Howitt 25 

30. The Heretic. By Lajetchnikoff 50 

31. The Jew. By Spindler 75 

32. Arthur. By Sue 75 

33. Chatsworth. By Ward 50 

34. The Prairie Bird. By C. A. Murray 1 00 

35. Amy Herbert. By Miss Sewell 50 

36. Rose d'Albret. By James 50 

37. The Triumphs of Time. By Mrs. Marsh 75 

38. The H Family. By Miss I'remer 50 

39. The Grandfather. By Miss Fickering 50 

40. Arrah Neil. By James 50 

41. TheJilt 50 

42. Tales from the German 50 

43. Arthur Arundel. By H. Smith 50 

44. Agincourt. By James 50 

45. The Regent's Daue;hter 50 

46. The Maid of Hono> 50 

47. Saiia. By De Beauvoir 50 

48. Look to the End. By Mrs. Ellis 50 

49. The Improvisatore. By Andersen 50 

50. The Gamblers Wife. By Mrs. Grey 50 

51. Veronica. By Zschokke 50 

52. Zoe. By Miss Jewsbury 50 

53. Wyoming 50 

54. De liohnn. By Sue 5> 

55. Self. By the Author of " Cecil" 75 

56. The Smuggler. By James 75 

57. The Breach of Promise 50 

58. Parsonage of Mora. By Miss Bremer 25 

59. A Chance Medley. By T. C. Grattan 50 

60. The White Slave 1 00 

61. The Bosom Friend. By Mrs. Grey 50 

62. Amaury. By Dumas 50 

63. The Author's Daughter. By Mary Howitt 25 

64. Only a Fiddler, &c. By Andersen 50 

65. The AVhiteboy. By Mrs. Hall SO 

66. The Foster- Brother. Edited by Leigh Hunt. . . 50 

67. Love and Mesmerism. By H. Smith 75 

68. Ascanio. By Dumas 75 

69. Lady of Milan. Edited by Mrs. Thomson 75 

70. The Citizen of Prague 1 00 

71. The Royal Favorite. By Mrs. Gore 50 

72. The Queen of Denmark. By Mrs. Gore 50 

73. The Elves, &c. By Tieck 50 

74. 75. The Stepmother. By James 1 25 

76. Jessie' s Flirtations 50 

77. Chevalier d'Harmental. By Dumas 50 

78. Peers and Parvenus. By Mrs. Gore 5 i 

79. The Commander of Malta. By Sue 50 

80. The Female Minister 50 

81. Emilia Wyndham. By Mrs. Marsh 75 

82. The Bu,sh-Ranger. ' By Charles Rowcroft 50 

83. The Chronicles of Clovernook 25 

84. Genevieve. By Lamartine 25 

8.5. Livonian Tales 25 

86, Lettioe Arnold. By Mrs. Marsh 25 



ST. Father Darcy. By Mrs. Marsh $o 75 

88. Leontine. By Mrs. Jlaberly .',o 

89. Heidelberg. By James 50 

90. Lucretia. By Bulwer 7.0 

91. Beauchamp. By James 75 

92. 94. Fortescue. By Knowles 1 (0 

93. Daniel Dennison, &c. By Mrs. Holland 50 

95. Cinq-Mars. By De Vigny £-.0 

96. Woman's Trials. By Mrs. S. C. Hall 75 

97. The Castle of Ehrenstein. By James 50 

£8. Marriage. By Miss S. Ferrier 50 

99. Roland Cashel. By Lever 1 ':5 

100. The Martins of Cro' Martin. By Lever 1 25 

101. Russell. By James ,50 

102. A Simple Story. By Mrs. Inchbald 50 

103. Norman's Bridge. By Mrs. Marsh 50 

104. Alamance 50 

105. Margaret Graham. By James L5 

106. The Wayside Cross. By E. H. Milman ^5 

107. The Convict. By James 50 

108. Midsummer Eve." By Mrs. S. C. Hall bO 

109. Jane Eyre. By Currer Bell 75 

110. The Last of the Fairies. By James 25 

111. Sir Theodore Broughton. By James 50 

112. Self-Control. By Mary Brunton 75 

113. 114. Harold. By Bulwer 1 0(1 

115. Brothers and Sisters. By Jliss Bremer 50 

116. Ciowrie. By James &0 

117. A Whim and its Consequences. By James... 50 

118. Three Sisters and Three Fortunes. By G. H. 

Lewes 75 

119. The Discipline of Life 50 

120. Thirty Years Since. By James. 75 

121. Mary Barton. By Mrs. Gaskell 50 

122. The Great Hoggarty Diamond. By Thackeray 25 

123. The Forgery. By James 50 

124. The Midnight Sun. By Miss Bremer i 5 

]':5, 126. The (;axtons. By Bulwer 75 

127. Mordaunt Hall. By Mrs. Marsh 50 

128. My Uncle the Curate 50 

129. The Woodman. By J ames 75 

130. The Green Hand. A " Short Yarn" 75 

131. Sidonia the Sorceress. By Meinhold 1 Oil 

13->. Shirley. By Currer Bell ; 1 00 

183. The Ogilvies. By Miss Mulock 50 

104. Constance Lyndsay. By G. C. H 50 

135. Sir Edward Graham. By Miss Sine lair 1 00 

136. Hands not Hearts. By Miss Wilkinson 50 

137. The Wilmingtons. By Mrs. Marsh 50 

138. Ned Allen. By D. Hannay 50 

13^. Night and Morning. By Bulwer 75 

140. The Maid of Orleans 75 

141. Antonina. By Wilkie Collins fO 

142. Zanoni. By Bulwer 50 

143. Reginald Hastings. By ■\^■arburton £0 

144. Pride and Irresolution 50 

145. The Old Oak Chest. By James 50 

146. Julia Howard. By Mrs Martin Bell 50 

147. Adelaide Lindsay. Edited by Mrs. Marsh. ... 50 

148. Petticoat Government. By Mrs. TroUope 50 

149. The Luttrells. By F. Williams 50 

150. Singleton Fontenoy, R. N. By Hannay 50 

151. Olive. By Miss Mulock 50 

152. Henry Smeaton. By James 50 

153. Time, the Avenger. By Mrs. Marsh 50 

154. The Commissioner. By James 1 CO 

155. The Wife's Sister. By Mrs. Hubback 50 

156. The Gold Worshipers 50 

157. The Daughter of Night. By Fullom 50 

158. Stuart of Dunleath. By Hon. Caroline Norton 50 

159. Arthur Conway. By Captain E. H. Milman. . 50 

160. The Fate. By James 50 

161. The Lady and the Priest. By Mrs. Maberly. . 50 

162. Aims and Obstacles. By James 50 

163. The Tutor's Ward 50 

164 Florence Sackville. By Jlrs. Burbury 75 

165. Ravenscliffe. By Mrs. Marsh 50 

106. M aurice Tiernay. By Lever 1 00 

167. The Head of the Family. By Miss Mulock. . . 75 

16S. Darien. By Warburton 50 

169. Falkenburg 75 

170. The Daltons. By Lever. 1 50 

171. Ivar; or. The Skjuts-Boy. By Miss Carlen . . 50 

172. Pequinillo. By James 50 

173. Anna Hammer. By Temme 50 



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174. A Life of Viciasitudea. By James $0 50 

175. Henry Esmond. By Thackeray 75 

1T6, 177. My Novel. By Bulwer 1 50 

17S. Katie Stewart. By Mrs. Olipliant 25 

179. Caatle Avon. By Mrs. Marsh 50 

180. Agnes Sorel. By James 50 

181. Agatha's Husband. By Mias Mulock 50 

182. Villette. By Gurrer Bell 75 

183. Lover's Stratagem. By Misa (Jarlen 50 

181. Clouded Happinesa. By Countess D'Oraay. . . 50 

135. Charles Auchester. A Memorial 75 

1S(j. Lady Lee's Widowhood 50 

187. The Dodd Family Abroad. By Lever 1 25 

183. Sir Jasper Carew. By Lever 75 

189. Quiet Heart. By Mrs. Oliphant 25 

190. Aubrey. By Mra. Marsh 75 

191. Ticonderoga. By James 50 

192. Hard Times. By Dickena 50 

193. The Young Husband. By Mrs. Grey 50 

194. The Mother's Kecompense. By Grace Aguilar. 75 

195. Avillion, and other Tales. By Miss Mulock. . . 1 25 

190. North and South. By Mrs. Gaskell 50 

197. Country Neighborhood. By Miaa Dupuy 50 

193. Conatance Herbert. By Mias Jewsbury 50 

199. The Heiress of Haughton. By Mrs. Marsh. . . 50 

200. The Old Dominion. By James 50 

201. John Halifax. By Miss Mulock 75 

202. Evelyn Marston. By Mrs. Marsh 50 

208. Fortunes of Glencore. By Lever 50 

204. Leonora d' Oreo. By James 50 

205. Nothing New. By Mias Mulock 50 

206. The IJose of Ashurat. By Mrs. Marsh 50 

207. TheAthelings. By Mrs. Oliphant T5 

208. Scenes of Clerical Life. By George Eliot 75 

209. My Lady Ludlow. By Mrs. Gaskell 25 

210. 211. Gerald Fitzgerald. By Lever 50 

212. A Life for a Life. By Miss Mulock 50 

213. Sword and Gown. By Geo. Lawrence 25 

214. Misrepresentation. By Anna H. Drury 1 00 

215. The Mill on the Floss. By George Eliot 75 

216. One of Them. By Lever 75 

217. A Day's liide. By Lever 50 

213. Notice to Quit. By Wills 50 

219. A Strange Story. By Bulwer 1 00 

220. The Struggles of Brown, Jones, and Robinson. 

By Trollope 60 

221. Abel Drake's Wife. By John Saunders 75 

222. Olive Blake's Good Work. By Jeaffreson. . . . 75 
228. The Professor's Lady 25 

224. Mistress and Maid. By Miss Mulock 50 

225. Aurora IToyd. By M. E. Braddon 75 

226. BaiTington. By l>ever 75 

227. Sylvia's Lovers. By Mrs. Gaskell 75 

228. A First Friendship 50 

229. A Dark .Night's Work. By Mrs. Gaskell 50 

280. Mrs. Lirriper's Lodgings 25 

281. St. Olaves 75 

232. A Boint of Honor 50 

238. Live it Down. By Jeaffreson 1 00 

234. Martin Pole. By Saunders 50 

235. Mary Lyndsay. By Lady Emily Ponaonby. . . 50 

286. Eleanor's Victory. By M. E. Braddon 75 

287. Rachel Hay. By Trollope 50 

238. John Marchmont's Legacy. By M. E. Braddon. 75 

239. Annis Warleigh's Fortunes. By Holme Lee.. 75 

240. I'he Wife's Evidence. By Wills 50 

241. Barbara's History. By Amelia B. Edwards. . . 75 

242. Cousin Phillia. By Mrs. Gaskell 25 

248. What will he do with It ? By Bulwer 1 50 

244. The Ladder of Life. By Amelia B. Edwards. . 5(1 

245. Denis Duval. By Thackeray 50 

248. Maurice Dering. By Geo. Lawrence 50 

247. Margaret Denzil's History 75 

243. Quite Alone. By George Augustus Sala 75 

249. Mattie : a Stray 75 

250. My Brother's Wife. By Amelia B. Edwards!.' 50 

251. Uncle Silas. By J. S. Le Fanu 75 

252. Lovel the Widower. By Thiickeray 25 

253. Miss Mackenzie. By Anthony Trollope 50 

254. On Guard. By Annie Thomas 50 

255. Theo Leigh. By Annie Thomas 50 

256. Denis Donne. By Annie Thomas 50 

257. Belial 50 

25S. Carry's Confeasion. By the Author of " Mat- 
tie : a Stray" 75 

259. Miss Carew. By Amelia B. idwards 50 

260. Hand and Glove. By Amelia B. Edwards 50 

261. Guy Deverell. By J. S. Le I ami 50 

262. Half a Million of Money. By Amelia B. Ed- 

wards 75 

263. The Belton Estate. By Anthony Trollope 50 

264. Agnes. By Mrs. Oliphant 75 

265. Walter Goring By Annie Thomas 75 

266. Maxwell Drewitt. By Mr.^. J. M. Kiddell 75 

267. The Toilers of the Sea. By Victor Hugo 75 

268. Miss Marjoribanks. By Mrs. Oliphant 50 

26-9. The True History of a Little Ragamuffin 50 



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270. Gilbert Rugge. By the Author of "A First 

Friendship" $1 00 

271. Sans Merci. By Geo. Lawrence 50 

272. Phemie Keller. By Mrs. J. H. Riddell 50 

273. Land at Last. By Edmund Yates 50 

274. Felix Holt, the Radical. By George Eliot 75 

275. Bound to tho Wheel. By John Saunders 75 

276. All in the Dark. By J. S. Le Fanu 50 

277. Kissing the Hod. By Edmund Y'ates 75 

273. The Race for Wealth. By Mra. J. H. Riddell. . 75 

279. Lizzie Lorton of Greyrigg. By Mrs. E. Lynn 

Linton 75 

280. The Beauclercs, Father and Son. By Clarke. 50 

281. Sir Brooke Fossbrooke. By Charles Lever ... 50 

282. Madonna Mary. By Mrs. Oliphant 50 

233. Cradock Nowell. By R. D. Blackmore 75 

234. Bernthal. From the German of L. Muhlbach. 50 

285. Rachel's Secret 75 

286. The Claverings. By Anthony Trollope 50 

2S7. The Village on the Cliff. By Miss Thackeray. 25 

238. Played Out. By Annie Thomas 75 

289. Black Sheep. By Edmund Yates 50 

290. Sowing the Wind. By Mrs. E. Lynn Linton.. 50 

291. Nora and Archibald Lee ■ 50 

292.. Raymond's Heroine 50 

293. Mr. Wynyard's W^ird. By Holme Lee 50 

294. Alec Forbes of Howglen. By Mac Donald T5 

295. No Man's Friend. By F. W. Robinson 75 

296. Called to Account. By Annie Thomas 50 

297. Caste 50 

298. The Curate's Discipline. By Mrs. Eiloart 50 

299. Circe. By Babington White 60 

300. The Tenants of Malory. ByJ. S. LeFanu 50 

301. Carlyon's Y'ear. By the Author of "Lost Sir 

Massingberd," &c 26 

302. The Waterdale Neighbors. By the Author of 

' ' Paul M;issie" 50 

303. Mabel's Progress. By the Author of " The Sto- 

ry of Aunt Margaret's Trouble" 60 

804. Guild Court. By George Mac Donald 50 

305. The Brothers' Bet. By Emilie Flygare Carlen 25 

3i 6. Playing for High Stakes. By Annie Thomas . . 60 

307. Margaret's Engagement 60 

308. One of the Family. By the Author of *•' Car- 

lyon' s Year" 25 

309. Five Hundred Pounds Reward. By a Barrister 50 

310. Brownlows. By Mrs. Oliphant 37 

311. Charlotte's Inheritance. By M. E. Braddon . . 50 

312. Jeannie's Quiet Life. By the Author of " St. 

Olaves," &c 60 

313. Poor Humanity. By F. W. Robinson 60 

814. Brakespeare. By Gro. Lawrence 50 

315. A Lost Name. By J. Sheridan Le Fanu 50 

316. Love or Marriage? By William Black 50 

817. Dead-Sea Fruit. By M. E. Braddon 50 

818. The Dower Hou.=e. By Annie Thomas 50 

319. The Bramleighs of Bishop's Folly. By Lever. 50 

320. Mildred. By Georgiana M. Craik 50 

321. Nature's Nobleman. By the Author of " Ra- 

chel's Secret" 50 

322. Kathleen. By the Author of " Raymond's He- 

roine" 60 

823. That Boy of Norcott's. By Charles Lever 25 

324. In Silk Attire. By W. Black 50 

325. Hetty. By Henry Kingsley 25 

326. False Colors. By Annie Thomas 60 

327. Meta's Faith. By the Author of " St. Olave'e." 50 

328. Found Dead. By the Author of "Carlyou's 

Year" 50 

329. Wrt eked in Port. By Edmund Yates 50 

330. The Minister's Wife. By Mrs. Oliphant 75 

331. A Beggar on Horseback. By the Author of 

" Carlyon's Year" 50 

332. Kitty. By the Author of " Doctor Jacob" .... 50 

333. Only Herself. By Annie Thomas 50 

3.^4. Hirpll. By John Saunders 50 

385. Unrler Foot. By Alton Clyde 60 

336. So Runs the World Away. By Mrs. A. C. Steele. 50 

337. Baffled. By Julia Goddard 75 

333. Beneath the Wheels. By the Author of " Olive 

Varcoe " 50 

339. Stern Necessity. By F. W. Robinson 50 

340. Gwendoline's Hai-vest. By (he Author of "Car- 

Ivon'sYear" 25 

341. Kilmeny. By W. Black 50 

342 John : a Love Story. By Mi-s. Oliphant 60 

343. True to Herself. By F. W. Robinson 50 

314. V( ronica. By the Author of " Aunt Margaret's 

Trouble" 50 

315. A Dangerous Guest. By the Author of '•'•Gil- 

bert Rugge " 50 

346. Estelle Russell 75 

347. The Heir Expectant. By the Author of " Ray- 

mond's Heroine " 50 

3i3. Whicu 13 the 1 1> rome '? 50 

;i4D. The Vivian Romance. By Mortimer Collins. . 50 

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The style is excellent, clear, vivid, eloquent ; and 
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Mr. Motley to a high rank in the literature of an age 
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A work of real historical value, the result of accurate 
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last deeply interesting. — Athenceum. 

Mr. Motley's work is an important one, the result of 
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It belongs to a class of works in which we range our 
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The best contribution to modern history that has yet 
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To the illustration of this period Mr. Motley has 
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History of the United Netherlands : from the Death of William the Silent to the 
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Mr. Motley, the American historian of the United 
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Times. 

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and other by-ways the story is as glowing, nervous, 
and interesting as in the main details of the marvel- 
ous contest. — Athenceum, 



This noble work. — Westininster Review. 

One of the most fascinating, as well as important 
histories of the century. — Cor. N. Y. Evening Post. 

Mr. Motley's prose epic. — London Spectator. 

His living and truthful picture of events. — London 
Quarterly Review. 

His history is as interesting as a romance, and as 
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THE OLD TESTAMENT HISTORY. From the Creation to the Return of 
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vigorous, the latest biblical researches are embodied, 
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jects not strictly historical. Maps and woodcuts are 
freely introduced, and the volume possesses more than 
ordinary value. — Hound Table. 

A scholarly, thorough, and condensed account of the 
history recorded in the Old Testament, and will be 
f )und to be admirably adapted to the purposes for 
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The history of the Jews is here told in a better man- 
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the results of the deep and accurate inquiries into that 
history are incorporated with the narrative. It is in- 
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form of regular historical writing, and written with 
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In the preparation of the text it is evident that great 
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reverent and recognizing the sanctity and claims of 
Revelation, she aid be suitable for the characteristic 
criticism and exegesis of the age. It is an excellent 
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criticism, historical, ethnographical, topographical, 
and chronological investigations have accumulated 
round the Old Testament Word of God.— Presbyterian 
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A most careful and voluminous compendium of all 
recent discoveries throwing light upon the Old Testa- 
ment. — Albion. 



THE STUDENT'S NEW TESTAMENT HISTORY. 



THE NEW TESTAMENT HISTORY. With an Introduction, connecting 
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Those who have read the New Testament only in a 
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here presented. — Ainer. Presbyterian (Philadelphia). 

Very complete and excellent as a book of reference. 
— Observer. 

It meets a want which every young student of the 
Bible feels. — Cincinnati Christian Advocate. 

The chapters treating of the Maccabees and the 
times of Herod, the sects and several branches of the 
Jews, and their new forms of worship, are thought- 
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valuable. — Jewish Messenger. 



Sabbath-school teachers, and the more advanced 
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and remunerative volume. — Congregatioiialist. 

By far the best of its kind of any thing that has yet 
been published. — Churchraan. 

The history itself reads smoothly, and without break. 
Facts which give picturesque vividness to the narra- 
tive are woven into the narrative sentences, so that 
the whole panorama seems to stand out with stereo- 
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endeavor to paint pictures, and without the slightest 
approach to "fine writing." The casual reader is 
borne on without eff"ort on the smooth surface of the 
text, and the student stops at the end of each chapter 
to find a storehouse of treasures under the head of 
"Notes and \\\\ist\:a.iions." — Sunday-School Teacher 
(Chicago). 

A very timely and necessary compendium of Bible 
'knowleAge.-Christian Review. 



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HARPEE'S PICTORIAL HISTORY 

OF 

The Great Rebellion 

IN 

THE UNITED STATES. 

By ALFEED H. GUEENSEY and HENEY M. ALDEN. 

With nearly One Thousand Illustrations. 

Quarto, Cloth, $12 00. 



This work contains 998 Illustrations. Of these 562 are authentic representations of Scenes and 
Incidents in the War ; 99 Maps and Plans of Battles, among which is a large Colored Map of the 
Southern States, showing the position of nearly every place of note, together with the great lines 
of communication ; and 337 Portraits of persons who have borne a prominent civil or military 
part in the war, 



I have seen no other History of the Eebellion that 
seems to embrace so many admirable qualities as this 
does. I wisli that so carefully prepared, beautifully 
illustrated, and reliable a History of our late Civil War 
might be placed in the library of every Grammar and 
High School and Academy in our country. — Abneb J. 
Phipps, Agent of the Massachusetts State Board of Edu- 
cation. 

This is one of the great enterprises of the day. The 
historical matter is really valuable ; the sketches of 
individuals and incidents are admirably drawn, not 
only by the pen of the historian, but by the pencil of 
the artist, and both combined will make, when bound, 
one of the marked histories of this war, if not the great 
history of the war. There are official documents on 
every page, at the bottom, which add much to the 
value of the work. It will be found on the centre- 
tables of thousands of our countrymen. — Boston Post. 

The writer judiciotisly combines the spirit of philo- 
sophical reflection with a vivid and picturesque de- 
lineation of facts. His style is at once lively and pol- 
ished, and every page gives evidence of careful study 
and preparation. — New York Tribune. 

This is as valuable a work as ever was compiled on 
a historical subject. — Zion's Herald. 

A careful, comprehensive, mintite, and graphic 
record of the origin and progress of the war ; and in 
the size and beauty of its pages and paper, in the 
profuseness, costliness, elegance, and completeness 
of its illustrations, far exceeding any other history 
yet attempted. — Neio York Observer. 

We speak confidently in praise of the manner in 
which the work is brought out. This narrative, em- 
bellished by the picturesque illustrations, afibrds an 
interesting commentary on the war, and will be of 
priceless value foV preservation. — Boston Advertiser. 

We have seen no other History of the Eebellion 
which strikes us as combining so many attractive 
qualities as this — clear narrative, just proportion of 
space to the topics, excellent and abounding illustra- 
tions. — Philadelphia Lutheran. 



Many of its illustrative pictures are the best that we 
have seen in such a work ; and some of the numerous 
portraits of prominent actors in the war are admirable 
as likenesses and works of art. — London Athenceum. 

Combining historic accuracy and impartiality with 
sound constitutional and moral opinions, it exhibits 
unusual skill in the seizure and grouping of salient 
points in the tragic drama. These pass before the 
mind in intelligible, imposing order, and are discussed 
in a style that leaves little to be desired in respect of 
graphic power and perspicuity. — ChristioAi Advocate. 

The most thorough history of the struggle yet writ- 
ten. — Boston Journal. 

The most popular history of the struggle. — Amer- 
ican Quarterly Church Review. 

Without any affectation of profound philosophy, or 
without fine writing, this history is, in our judgment, 
one of the best and most valuable records of our great 
struggle, and we have no doubt that it will maintain 
this reputation. In future years, when the records of 
the war office and the bureaus of the other departments 
are opened up to the future Prescotts and Motleys, we 
shall have secrets revealed and light shed on points 
respecting which we must remain uninformed for the 
present ; but for all ordinary purposes we desire no 
better record than the one that is steadily going on to 
completion. — Chicago Presbyterian. 

The Pictorial History of the Great Rebellion in no 
sense depends upon its illustrations for its worth, 
though they are excellent specimens of the art, and 
help the reader to understand the incidents of the 
war. The real merits of the work are apart from its 
engravings. Those merits are a strong and lucid 
style, a vast amount of well-digested and well-told in- 
formation, just and well-considered criticisms, and 
impartial statements of all points about which there 

are disputes Every library should have this work, 

for it is one of singular vjilue as a book of reference, 
because of its comprehensiveness as well as accuracy. 

As a work of general reading it is of tmsurpassed 

value. — Boston Traveller. 



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MISS MULOCK'S NOVELS. 

She attempts to show how the trials, perplexities, joys, sorrows, labors, and successes of life deepen or wither the 
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She cares to teach, not how dishonesty is always plunging men into infinitely more complicated external difficulties 
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kl INDEX TO HARPER'S MAGAZINE. 

An Index to Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Alphabetical, Analytical, and Topical. 
Volumes I. to XL. : from June, 1850, to -May, 1870. 8vo, Cloth, $3 00. 



"The Index just issued by the Harpers to the forty vol- 
umes of their Magazine is an 'open sesame' to a new 
Hasserack's cave, tilled with more than the treasures of 
the 'Forty Thieves.' It is the key to a repository of bi- 
ography and history, literature, science, and art, unequaled 
by any other American publication. * * * It is saying no- 
thing depreciatingly of other Magazines to declare that no 
other can now successfully compete with Harper's. It has 
the start in the race. Already the forty volumes are as 
valuable as a mere work of reference as any cyclopaedia we 
can place in our libraries. Harper's Magazine is a record 
of travel every where since the hour of its establishment. 
Livingstone and Gordon Cumming in Africa, Strain among 
the Andes and Ross Browne in the East, Speke on the Nile 
and Macgregor on the Jordan — indeed, all recent travelers 
of note — have seen their most important discoveries repro- 
duced in these pages. Most of our younger and many of 
our older writers find here their literary biography. Our 
artists see the best evidences of their genius and the most 
enduring specimens of their work in the Magazine. And 
there is yet much to do even at home. The Alleghanies, 
and the Green and Blue Mountains, the ten thousand beau- 
ties of a thousand streams, the lakes of New York, the bays 
and shores of New England, the valleys and mountains of 
Pennsylvania, the fields and rivers of the South, the un- 
known wonders of the West, are waiting for pen and pen- 
cil to disclose their beauties. History, biography, and 
travel, art, science, and literature, must continue to enrich 
these pages. If the same judgment and taste and liberal- 
ity continue to characterize the Magazine in the future 
which characterized it in the past, before the close of this 
century the trite remark so often made about inferior 
books, ' indispensable in every library,' will for once be- 
come a true saying. * * * As a Magazine, Harper's has been 
conducted after no other model ; and, as a work of refer- 
ence even, it fills a place which bo other periodical can 
ever hope to fill. » * * The Index will tend to make the 
Magazine even more popular than it has been, by making 
its treasures accessible without imposing the trouble upon 
the reader of examining the list of contents to each sepa- 
rate volume for some chapter of knowledge stored away 
somewhere in the 38,000 pages of these forty volumes." — 
N. Y. Stanbaku. 



" The Index to the forty volumes of Harper's Monthly has 
evidently been prepared with great care and judgment. An 
article may be sought under its proper title, under the class 
to which it belongs, or under its author's name, if known ; 
and, so far as we have tested the Index by cross references, 
the search can hardlv fail to be rewarded. Even the con- 
tents of such crowded departments as the 'Editor's Easy 
Chair' and the 'Record of Current Events' have been, 
in the one case, put in alphabetical order, in the other 
chronologically an-anged, of course adding very much to 
the general value of the Index. Finally, each alternate 
page'has been left blank for private indexing of subsequent 
volumes. We have gratified our curiosity in noting at ran- 
dom the names of the principal contributors to what is 
at once the most popular and, in its scheme, the most orig- 
inal of our Magazines. Mr. G. W. Curtis, Mr. A. H. Guern- 
sey, Rev. S. I. Prime, Mr. Donald G. Mitchell, and others, 
who have shared the editing of Harper's, we will leave out 
of view. Among the authors of the lighter stories, which 
the reader has learned to expect with every number, we 
recognize Miss Louise Chandler Moulton, Mrs. Harriet E. 
P. Spofford, and the late Fitz James O'Brien, as among the 
most prolific ; along with Mr. Charles Nordhoff", Miss Car- 
oline Cheesebro, Mr. F. B. Perkins, Mr. J. W. De Forest, 
Miss Marv N. Prescott, and the Misses Cary— Miss Alice 
being much the more frequent. Rev. W. M. Baker, author 
of "Inside" and "The New Timothy," has written more 
or less of short stories and serials. Mr. Justin McCarthy 
made good the time he spent here with Harper's. Mr. 
Lossing, Mr. Headley, and Mr. J. S. C. Abbott have fur- 
nished history; Mr. Strother ('Porte -Cray on') has writ- 
ten much and pleasantly of his excursions and adventures 
in this countrv, chiefly at the South ; and Messrs. E. G. 
Squier and J. Ross Browne began early to narrate their 
experiences in foreign parts. Among the miscellaneous 
essayists have been Mr. Charles T. Congdon, Mr. M. D. 
Conwav, Mr. H. T. Tuckerman, Mr. Bayard Taylor, Mr. 
Grant White, Prof. Tayler Lewis, and Rev. Samuel Osgood. 
The late Mr. Ravmond -ivi-ote three articles, Mr. Greeley 
one, and Mr. A. Oakey Hall three. * * * On the whole, it 
would be difficult to make up a list of writers better calcu- 
lated to please and edify the average American citizen."— 
Tub Nation, New York. 



Harper & Brothers will send the aboz'e work by ?nail, fostage prepaid, to any part of the United 

States, on receipt of $3 00. 



VOLUME 42. I TT 1\ /r i NEW YORK, 

NUMBER247.J HARPER'S Magazine, i DEc.,1870. 

THE Forty-second Volume of Harper's Magazine opens with the present Number. From the 
matter which they have on hand or which has been secured for this Volume, the Publishers con- 
fidently expect that it will even surpass its predecessors. Each Number of Harper's Magazine con- 
tains from fifty to one hundred per cent, more matter than a single Number of any other monthly period- 
ical in the world, its contents being equal to those of a volume of Macaulay's History of England. Each 
Number contains Serials and Short Stories from the best writers in Europe and America, contributed ex- 
pressly for Harper's Magazine ; richly illustrated articles of Travel ; carefully prepared papers of a 
Historical and Scientific character, a large number of which are profusely illustrated ; timely articles upon 
important Current Topics ; lighter papers upon an infinite variety of subjects ; Poems from our most bril- 
liant and popular writers ; and, in addition to all these, five Editorial departments covering every matter 
of current interest, in Art, Society, History, Science, Literature, and Anecdote. The Editor's Scientific 
Record contains every month from thirty to forty separate articles, giving the latest discoveries in Science, 
with special attention to their practical application. Harper's Magazine, while it has so much for 
every class of readers, maintains throughout a high standard of literary excellence, not surpassed by that 
of any other periodical. 

The Life of Frederick the Great will be continued through the present Volume. In the February 
Number will be commenced a thrilling and exceedingly humorous story, " The American Baron," by 
Prof. James De Mille, Author of "The Dodge Club," "The Cryptogram," etc. "Anne Ftirness" will 
be continued through the present Volume. 

Published Monthly, with profuse lUustraiipns. 



VOLUME ITT WT (For 

XIV. f Harper's Weekly, i ^z^o. 

HARPER'S WEEKLY is an illustrated record of and comrrlfentary upon ihe events of the timesj It 
will treat of every topic, Political, Historical, Literary, and Scientific, which is of current interest, 
and will give the finest illustrations that can be obtained from every available source, original or foreign. 

Published Weekly, with profuse Ilhistrations. 



VOLUME] T T "O (For 

m. [ riARPER'S J3AZAR. 1 1870. 

HARPER'S BAZAR is a Journal for the Home. It is especially devoted to all subjects pertaining 
to Domestic and Social Life. It furnishes the latest Fashions in Dress and Ornament ; describes 
in-door and out-door Amusements ; contains Stories, Essays, and Poems — ^every thing, in brief, calcu- 
lated to make an American home attractive. 

Published Weekly, with profuse Illustrations. 



Harper's Magazine, Weekly, and Bazar, 

One Copy of either for One Year, ^4 00. 

The three publications, the Magazine, Weekly, and Bazar, will be sent to any address, for One Year, for $10 00; any two 
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An Extra Copy of either the Magazine, the Weekly, or the Bazar will be supplied gratis to every Club of Five Subscribers 
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The Volumes of the Weekly and Bazar commence with the year. When no time is specified, it will be understood that the 
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The Volumes of the Magazine commence with the Numbers for June and December of each year. Subscriptions may com- 
mence with any Number. When no time is specified, it will be understood that the subscriber wishes to begin with the 
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The Postage within the United States is for the Magazine 24 cents a year, for the Weekly or Bazar 20 cents a year, payable 
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